


Come Follow The Band

by Sing_Out_Louise



Category: Book of Mormon - All Media Types, The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: F/M, M/M, Travelling Circus AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-08 17:15:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sing_Out_Louise/pseuds/Sing_Out_Louise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally snapping under the pressure put on him by his parents to achieve, Kevin Price runs away from home, with no clear path ahead of him. He stumbles across a group of travelling performers, and soon he is swept up into their world of glamour and glitter. However, soon the facade begins to slip, and Kevin starts to unravel the secrets behind the sequins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

His mother had told him not to go into the woods at night. Up until now, he had always listened to her. The woods are full of monsters, Kevin, she’d warned. He laughed as he trudged through the dimly lit trees. When he’d been five years old he’d worshipped his parents - thought the world of them. All through his childhood, and for most of his adolescent years he’d gone along with their plan for him. However, over the last few days he’d suddenly begun to doubt himself - to doubt them. He slowly began to see that his family weren’t really interested in him, but more his achievements and what he meant for their status. After nineteen years of it, he’d finally had enough. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t going to be their trophy child anymore and left the house, taking nothing but the clothes on his back.

He continued through the woods, not knowing where he was going or what he planned on doing. The last thing he wanted to do was return to his home and family. Not after all the things he’d said. Kevin carried on walking, hoping that in doing so, his path forward would become more obvious. It occurred to him that he had no idea where he was anymore. He thought that maybe if he continued, he would find another village further along. Almost immediately, he saw a faint orange glow up ahead. He squinted, trying to make out what it was. Kevin picked up his pace and broke into a slight jog, grateful for a sign of life. As he neared the light, he began to be able to hear voices and laughter, and even faint strains of music. He could see figures moving around and could make out the outlines of caravans and tents. Had he come across a group of gypsies? Kevin’s paced slowed as he approached, suddenly wary. He reached the clearing where he could now see an elaborate camp had been set up. He ducked behind a tree, not wanting to be spotted. He surveyed the scene – the orange light he had seen from the woods was a campfire set up in the middle of the caravans. Around the fire, sat a group of people. They were all engaging in conversation, laughing and eating some form of meat that was roasting on a spit over the fire. One of the men around the fire, let out a particularly loud, obnoxious laugh which startled Kevin and caused the other people around the fire to fall silent for a moment. Once the campfire group had resumed chatting, he gazed around the clearing once again. He began to notice that many of the caravans surrounding the campfire were lavishly decorated. His eyes flicked back to the group at the fire - sure enough they were all clothed in what appeared to be costumes of some sort. One man was even wearing a clown suit complete with wig. So this wasn’t just a group of gypsies - these were circus performers. Kevin couldn’t help but feel a little excited - when he was nine years old, his parents had taken him to the circus when it came to town. It was the most magical experience of his life and ever since he’d had a secret longing to join the performers and travel the world with them. Of course, that was when he was a kid - as he grew older he came to realise that running away and joining the circus wasn’t such a great idea. Especially not when the traveling performers who came to their village started getting a reputation for vandalising property and fighting with the villagers. Circus people didn’t have such a great reputation in Kevin’s town - people thought they were dangerous, unpredictable and wild. People kept their distance and eventually the performers stopped coming. Kevin hadn’t seen a troupe like this for years. He wondered whether these people were dangerous, like his village had come to teach him. His fears were confirmed as he saw one of the men throw something sharp and shiny looking in the air and catch it single handedly. From what Kevin could see, that object was a knife. Kevin’s heart immediately leapt into his throat. At least one of the men was armed. This meant that if the gypsies were as unpredictable as his parents and teachers had always told him he could be in serious trouble if they found him. He decided that it was time for him to move on through the woods, skirting around the travelers’ camp without disturbing them. He carefully exited his hiding place from behind the tree and began to creep away from the light of the clearing. However, in the dark, Kevin failed to spot the tree root protruding from the ground. He caught his foot on it and stumbled, causing him to yelp in pain and alarm. To Kevin’s dismay, this alerted the people around the campfire to his presence, and one of them stood up, glaring into the forest, trying to identify the source of the noise. 

‘Who’s there?’

Kevin quickly ducked down behind a bush. He wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be caught snooping around.

‘Hey! I know you’re there!’

Kevin held his breath. He heard footsteps approaching. He wondered whether running would be of any use. Well, it wouldn’t hurt to try. He shot out from behind the bush and broke into a run. 

‘Hey!’

He heard the sound of people pursuing him, so he ran faster. There was a whooshing sound as Kevin felt something fly past his head, but he didn’t stop. Another object was hurled, which this time hit Kevin square between the shoulder blades. The force of the object sent Kevin flying face first onto the earthy ground, collapsing painfully over a tree stump. Before he could move, he heard another whoosh and found himself pinned by his sleeve to the log he was lying on – whoever was chasing him had thrown a knife, which had pierced his sleeve and was firmly embedded in the wood. Kevin tried to detached himself from it but to no avail. As he tried to free his sleeve, he heard footsteps come up behind him.

‘What have we got here then?’ the voice spoke.

Kevin said nothing, frozen in fear. Whoever this man was, he’d just thrown a knife at him!

‘Come on, speak up!’ the voice spoke again. Again, Kevin did not answer.

‘Did you kill him?’ a second voice spoke.

‘Of course not – if he really is what we think he is, then we want him alive!’

‘What do you think I am?’ Kevin asked, annoyed at how his voice sounded higher with fear. He tried to crane his neck around so that he could see his captors.

‘So you can speak!’ the first voice jeered. ‘Tell me then – are you a spy?’

‘What?! A spy?? No!’ Kevin protested, fidgeting on the ground. If only he could dislodge the knife somehow, then he could try and make a run for it. He heard the crunch of leaves underfoot as his two attackers closed in.

‘Why else would you be snooping around our camp, huh?’

Kevin jumped as the first voice spoke just centimetres away from his ear.

‘I wasn’t snooping!’ Kevin insisted, tugging as his sleeve again.

‘Then what were you doing?’ voice number two spoke, sounding further away from Kevin than the other man.

‘I was just- I’m lost, ok?’ Kevin tried to explain, but was cut off as he felt a sharp kick to his side, winding him.

‘Save your excuses, we’ve heard them all before,’ voice one snarled. Kevin felt his arms roughly grabbed and rope tied around his hands. The knife was tugged from the wood and he was hoisted onto his feet.

‘Let’s take him to McKinley – he can decide what to do with him.’

Kevin felt a hand give him a rough shove in the small of the back that indicated he should move. He began to walk forwards, flanked by his captors.

In the dim light of the forest, Kevin could now make out the faces of the two men currently walking beside him. One was fair-haired, and seemed to be wearing an unusual amount of eye make up – Kevin figured that he must be one of the troupe’s performers. His gaze fell on the knife in the man’s hand. Knife-thrower. 

He turned his head and examined the other guy. He was dark haired, and had a gentler face than his companion. And wore less eye make up.

Kevin wondered what kind of spy they thought he was - what kind of circus troupe are on the constant look out for spies? He thought about asking but thought better of it, instead saying,

'Where are we going?' 

Neither of the two men responded. They continued to frog-march Kevin back towards the clearing. The light of the campfire grew visible once again as they neared the camp. 

'Did you get him?' a voice shouted out from the campfire. As Kevin and the knife-throwers emerged from the trees, he could see that there were a few people still gathered around the fire. The voice belonged to a tubby man, who was sporting a ridiculous costume and face-paint. He was sat next to another man, skinnier by far with blonde hair, who was turning the spit over the fire. Across the circle, was a third man who was polishing a single bicycle wheel. 

'We got him alright - but he won't confess,' said the fair-haired man. 

'I won't confess because I'm not a spy!' Kevin protested. 'I just ran away from home and got lost and-'

'You ran away from home? Me too!' the clown piped up, grinning. 

'And me!' the skinny boy chimed in. 

'Guys, don't listen to him, he's obviously lying,' said the knife-thrower, rolling his eyes. 

'I dunno, Eric,' the clown said, looking Kevin up and down. ‘He seems like a cool guy! And he’s a runaway just like us!’

Kevin smiled in relief, hoping that his attackers (one of whom he now knew to be called Eric) would listen to the clown and let him go. 

‘Listen, Cunningham - it’s not up to you what happens to prisoners,’ Eric snapped, pointing accusingly at the fatter man’s face with his own free hand. ‘We’re gonna take him to McKinley and he’ll tell us what to do with the spy.’

Cunningham flinched slightly. ‘Ok, sorry…’ he mumbled, turning back to his stool by the fire. 

‘Where is McKinley anyway?’ Eric’s partner asked.

‘I think he’s in his caravan!’ the man with the unicycle offered, smiling helpfully. 

‘Thanks, James,’ Eric nodded, yanking on Kevin’s upper arm and dragging him away from the campfire and towards the cluster of caravans. 

Kevin stumbled slightly as he was once more pushed into walking with the two men. Coming to the conclusion that they weren’t going to let him go until they’d referred him to this McKinley person, he stopped trying to extract his arms from the grip of his captors and contented himself with looking around his surroundings, put at ease with the fact that the rest of the gypsies seemed to be less mad than the pair who had captured him. As Eric and his friend lead him further into the heart of the camp, Kevin could see other people sitting around and going about their business. They passed a small tent, outside which sat a plump woman who seemed to be mending something pink and sparkly. She glanced up as the trio passed, raised an eyebrow, but did not comment and soon looked back to her sewing. A few steps on, they turned a corner and passed a caravan that appeared to be connected to a large cage. Inside the cage, was the sleeping form of a lion. A man sat on a chair next to the cage, also asleep. Kevin felt slightly apprehensive as they passed the cage containing the big cat - he’d never even seen a lion before, let along been this close to one. 

‘Should that man be sleeping…?’ he asked, nervously. 

‘That’s none of your business, prisoner!’ Eric snapped at him. 

‘Eric, you don’t have to be so mean to him…’ The brown haired man mumbled. 

‘He’s a spy, Noah!’ Eric hissed, as if under the impression Kevin couldn’t hear him. 

‘Yeah, but you may as well try and be nice - it won’t hurt you!’ Noah scolded. 

Eric scowled but said nothing more. 

They moved on, past the sleeping man and lion and came to a halt outside a particularly sparkly caravan. Just as Eric was about to approach the caravan door, it flew open and a man with shaggy blonde hair stumbled down the stairs. Another man appeared in the doorway after him. He was clad in a silky blue dressing gown, with fiery red hair and Kevin could make out the remains of make-up smudged on the man’s face. 

'Get out and don't come back until you've learned to pay me some respect!' the redhead spat.

'Sure, whatever,' the blonde man shrugged, straightening his shirt. 'But you best remember who funds your little performers…' With that, the blonde man stuck his hands in his pockets and strode away from the caravan, disappearing into the camp. Kevin, Noah and Eric watched him go before turning their heads back to the man at the top of the steps. The man's gaze followed the blonde as he walked away, a pained expression on his face, and he lifted his hand to angrily wipe at his eyes. After a moment, he noticed the trio standing before him and his expression snapped into a winning smile. 

'Noah! Eric! What's all this?' he enquired, gesturing to Kevin.

'We found him snooping around the edge of the camp,' Eric stated, shoving Kevin forward so that the redhead had a better view of him. 'He must be one of The General's spies!' Eric adopted a smug expression, as if incredibly pleased with his catch. 

Kevin assumed that the man they were talking to must be McKinley - he wasn’t quite what he expected of a leader of a circus of runaway gypsies. McKinley stared at Kevin thoughtfully before laughing. 

'Eric, what's got into you - this poor boy isn't a spy!'

Eric looked stunned. ‘B-but, he was hiding in the bushes!’ 

'Does he look like he came from the General's camp to you?' McKinley raised an eyebrow. 

'Well.. Uh, no, but we never know! He could be hiring people from the village to spy for him!' 

McKinley burst out laughing. ‘You are ridiculous, Eric!’ the redhead said, before looking directly at Kevin. ‘What’s your name?’

'…Kevin,' Kevin said after a pause. 

'And are you a spy?’

'No! I just got lost! I ran away from home, you see,' Kevin explained. There was a pause and for a moment, Kevin thought the redhead wasn't going to believe him. McKinley's ice blue eyes seemed to be piercing right through him, almost like he was trying to read his mind. After a long moment McKinley spoke.

'I believe you,' he said, his face relaxing into a welcoming smile. He looked to Eric. 'Eric, Noah - untie him.'

Eric and Noah looked at each other in confusion. 

‘NOW, please!’

Eric hastily untied the knotted rope around Kevin’s hands, letting him go. Kevin rubbed his wrist, the skin irritated by the rope.

'What are you going to do with the prisoner?' Eric asked, his brow furrowed. 

McKinley waved his hand in dismissal. ‘He’s not a prisoner, Eric - he’s a guest!’ 

Kevin, Eric and Noah all gawked at McKinley, thoroughly confused. 

'Don't look at me like I'm speaking Chinese!' McKinley scolded. 'Noah, Eric, be on your way!' 

Eric looked like he was going to protest, but Noah grabbed his arm and lead him away, shaking his head, indicating that he thought McKinley wasn’t quite right in the head, but not to question him. 

Once the knife-throwing duo had vanish, McKinley smiled at Kevin. ‘I’m sorry about those two - they’re just children really,’ he chuckled. Kevin also laughed, but it was forced and nervous. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Uh, yeah… I guess?’ Kevin said, slowly.

'Anyway, do come in!' the redhead said, turning around and retreating into the caravan. Kevin hesitated - should he trust this man? Before he had the time to dither anymore, McKinley reappeared in the doorway.

'Come on then!' 

Kevin accepted that he seemed to have no choice in the matter, and quickly scuttled into the caravan after McKinley. 

The interior of the caravan was just as flamboyant as the outside. Although the inside of the caravan was rather shabby, it was obvious that McKinley had made an effort to make it look as glamourous as the circumstances allowed. Against one wall there was a dressing table and mirror, which was lined with bulbs and draped with a large red feather boa. On the dressing table was scattered various make up items and a bunch of flowers in one corner. Against the other wall was a bed, which had a dark pink fur throw covering it and a few brightly coloured cushions scattered on top. McKinley swept over to the dressing table and sat down on the stool in front of it. 

'Take a seat!' he said, gesturing to the bed. Kevin sat down on the fluffy surface on the bed, still feeling apprehensive. 

'You don't have to look so scared - I'm not going to hurt you!' McKinley said, smiling warmly. 

Kevin wasn’t sure what to say and a somewhat awkward silence filled the room for a moment. 

'So, Kevin,' McKinley said. 'You said you ran away from home?'

'Yeah, I did,' Kevin replied, glad that the other man had broken the silence. 'Why is everyone here so interested in that?'

McKinley smirked a little. ‘Well, Kevin - all of us here are runaways ourselves!’

Kevin looked a little surprised. ‘All of you?’ 

'In one way or another, yes,' McKinley explained. 'Even the animals!' he laughed, but the joke was lost on Kevin. 

The pair were quiet for a moment before Kevin asked, ‘Why are you on the lookout for spies?’ 

McKinley grimaced, turning away from Kevin and removing an earring from one ear. ‘It’s a lot of uninteresting politics that I don’t want to drag you into…’ the redhead said, placing the earring down on the dressing table. ‘Let’s talk about something else - do you perform, Kevin?’

Kevin started. ‘Perform? Not really, no…’

'Alright, let me rephrase the question,' McKinley turned to face Kevin. 'Would you like to join our troupe?'

Kevin starred at McKinley. ‘You want me to join your troupe?’

'Why not? You've run away from home, you don't have anywhere to go, no way of earning money…'

'How do you know I don't have anywhere to go?' Kevin challenged, defensive all of a sudden. True, he had no plans and no money, but he resented the way that McKinley seemed to assume he was some useless boy who'd run away from his parents in a teenage strop. 

'Trust me, Kevin - my entire troupe are runaways - I know how they behave,' McKinley chuckled. 

Kevin pouted slightly, put out that this person he’d only just met seemed to be able to read him like a book. 

'So what do you say?' McKinley prompted. 'Even if you don't perform we're always in need of an extra hand…'

Kevin considered McKinley’s offer for a moment. On the one hand, yes - he had nowhere else to go, but on the other he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to just take off with this slightly mad group of travellers. Though, out of all the people he’d met so far, he was finding McKinley the most welcoming. There was also something about the flashy ringleader that intrigued Kevin - never in his life had he encountered anyone so… individual. Everyone he’d spent his time with back in the village had been so understated and boring. Compared to his lifestyle at home, he had to admit that McKinley’s offer was extremely tempting.

'Well, no matter what your decision, you may as well stay the night,' McKinley stood abruptly, tightening the ties of his dressing gown. 'It's much too late for a young boy to be wandering the woods alone!' 

The redhead made his way over to the door and beckoned for Kevin to follow him. Confused, Kevin stood from the bed and followed McKinley out of the caravan and down the little flight of steps onto the earthy ground. 

Once they were out in the open, McKinley began to stride towards the rest of the caravans - Kevin had to jog a little to keep up with him. 

'Where are we going?' Kevin asked, just managing to keep behind the ringleader. 

'You can sleep in Arnold's caravan,' McKinley said cheerfully, over his shoulder. 

Kevin was going to probe further but was starting to notice that McKinley never properly answered his questions. Just another thing that made the redhead so mysterious. 

They continued walking for a moment before a voice hailed them from one of the caravans at the side. 

'Mr McKinley!'

McKinley stopped, nearly causing Kevin to crash into him. The pair turned to where the voice came from and saw a man waving at them. The man wore a toothy grin as he beckoned them over.

'Gotswana! What can I do for you?' McKinley beamed, as if a teacher talking to a particularly favoured pupil. 

Gotswana turned around and retrieved a box from under the stool he had been sitting on. ‘I have been working on a new set of costumes for my little performers,’ he said, enthusiastically, his thick accent clearly present. 

Kevin immediately noticed McKinley’s expression change from one of eagerness to apprehension.

'Gotswana, I really think-'

'I made them just like yours - see?' Gotswana opened the box in his hands - inside were a handful of fat pink maggots, much to Kevin's disgust. Each of the maggots were wrapped in sparkling pink fabric and were wriggling slowly around the box. 

Kevin’s expression of horror was mirrored on McKinley’s own face. However, the redhead’s features soon changed to a state of increasing exasperation.

'Look, Gotswana, we've talked about this…’

Gotswana’s smiled faltered slightly. ‘You do not like them?’ he asked, his tone reminiscent of a wounded puppy. 

'No! No, I love them!' McKinley said hastily, evidently not wanting to hurt the man's feelings. 'I just think that…' he paused, tapping his chin, as if pondering how to phrase his next sentence. 'I think that maybe, making your, em, performers costumes is a little, well uh… fruitless… ‘ McKinley tailed off, wafting his hands to make his point. Gotswana stared at the ringleader for a moment. ‘You think the costumes need more fruit?’

McKinley slapped his hand to his forehead. ‘Look, you know what, it doesn’t matter - the costumes are lovely, Gotswana…’

Gotswana beamed and replaced the box lid. He turned to look at Kevin for the first time, with a curious expression on his face. McKinley looked from the maggot enthusiast to Kevin and realised that some sort of introduction had yet to be made.

'Oh, yes! Gotswana - this is Kevin - he's joining our troupe!' the redhead beamed. 

Gotswana extended a hand and Kevin took it, though regretted it as his hand was crushed in the dark skinned man’s strong grip. 

'Welcome, Kevin!' Gotswana said, grinning and nodding his head. 

'Uh, hi,' Kevin managed, still overwhelmed by his entire situation. 

'You must come and visit Gotswana's Magnificent Maggot Circus!' Gotswana insisted, letting go of Kevin's hand and gesturing to the box in his other hand. 

Kevin eyed the box warily. ‘Uh, sure!’ 

'Well anyway, I was just showing Kevin to his sleeping quarters,' McKinley said loudly, placing an arm round Kevin's shoulders and steering him away from Gotswana. 'Goodnight, Gotswana!' 

'Goodnight Mr McKinley! Goodnight Kevin!' Gotswana called after them as they swiftly walked away. 

'Sorry about him,' McKinley said as they carried on their way. 'He's a sweet man, but takes those gosh darned grubs way too seriously…' he shook his head, indicating that he was thoroughly done with Gotswana and his maggots. 

Kevin stifled a laugh, amused at how irritated McKinley appeared to be by Gotswana’s maggot circus. 

They walked a little further until they reached a rather tatty looking caravan - certainly tatty in comparison to McKinley’s own quarters. McKinley strode up to the door and gave it a sharp tap with one knuckle. The pair heard a scuffle and a voice shout; ‘Coming, one second!’

Kevin and McKinley waited outside the caravan for a moment until the door was yanked open and the same tubby man from the campfire appeared in the entrance. He had since changed out of the costume and wiped off most of the facepaint, though smudges of white still remained at his hairline and chin. 

'Arnold, this is Kevin-' McKinley was cut off by Arnold pointing excitedly at Kevin.

'You're the guy that Noah and Eric pulled in!' he said, cheerfully. 'So you're definitely not a spy, huh?'

'No, of course he's not,' said McKinley, a slightly irritated tone to his voice. 'Has everyone in this troupe gone mad and forgotten that everyone from the General's camp is from Africa?'

'Yeah, but in the dark Eric and Noah might not have been able to tell,' Arnold pointed out. 

'It doesn't matter - he is not a spy and he's joining our troupe!' McKinley's face lit up as he beamed at both Arnold and Kevin. 

'Cool!!' Arnold said, also grinning. He turned to Kevin and addressed him. 'What's your special talent? Are you an acrobat?? Can you juggle? I tell jokes and stories and sometimes poems too but Eric says my poems are too creepy. Also I play the trumpet sometimes too, but I don't think I'm very good at it…' 

Kevin had to lean back slightly as Arnold’s enthusiasm invaded his personal space. 

'I don't really, uh, have a “special talent”,' Kevin said, shrugging. Arnold looked disappointed at this revelation.

'Oh… Well maybe you'll discover it soon! I didn't know I could write poems until recently!' Arnold cackled, his laughter grating against the two other boys ears. Kevin winced, and thought he saw McKinley do the same. There was an awkward pause after Cunningham's extraordinary laugh which was broken by McKinley.

'Arnold, I thought Kevin could sleep in your caravan - could you go and make up the other bed?' he said, smiling sweetly at Arnold.

'Sure thing, boss!' Arnold cheerfully saluted McKinley and promptly disappeared into the caravan. Once he had gone, Kevin turned to McKinley.

'Thank you for letting me stay,' he said. 'Even though you barely know me and have no reason to want to help me…'

McKinley took both Kevin’s hands in his own and looked him straight in the eye, his piercing eyes serious. ‘Runaways stick together, Kevin. If I’ve learnt anything in my time on the road, it’s that.’

Kevin nodded slowly, transfixed by the McKinley’s eyes. ‘Thanks…. McKinley,’ he said at last.

’Connor,’ the redhead said, smiling and breaking the tension.

'Connor…?' Kevin questioned, unsure what McKinley meant. 

'Call me Connor - McKinley's my last name. Only Gotswana and Eric pretending to be important call me McKinley,' Connor said, laughing softly. 'And assuming that Kevin is your first name-'

'It is,' Kevin interjected, rather unnecessarily. 

'Well then - if I call you by your first name then it's only fair for you to call me by mine!' 

The two men smiled at each other, eyes locked together once again. After a moment, Connor broke the eye contact, looking down at his feet. Before Kevin had time to register the action, Arnold reappeared at the door, clutching a white pillow. 

'I've made up the bed!' he grinned, hugging the pillow. 

Connor looked at Kevin once again and smiled.

'Sleep well, Kevin, we have a big day ahead of us tomorrow…' he said before twirling around and walking away in the direction of his own caravan. Kevin watched him go, admiring the way Connor's robe swished behind him as he walked. Kevin was broken out of his trance by Arnold clearing his throat.

'Sooooooo…' said Arnold, rocking back and forth on his heels. 'Wanna come in?'

'Sure,' Kevin nodded. Arnold retreated into the caravan, followed closely by Kevin. Arnold paused and let Kevin pass him into the cramped space, shutting the door behind them. Arnold's caravan seemed to be slightly smaller than Connor's had been - it was distinctly lacking in decor, the only feature on the walls being a few flyers from what seemed to be theatre plays and book covers. The covers on both narrow beds were plain white and simple - though both were slightly grubby, as if they hadn't been washed. Kevin wondered whether they had. In the far corner, was a small table with a large object on top, which was hidden by a patchwork blanket. Arnold squeezed past Kevin and sat down on the bed next to the covered shape. Kevin took this as his cue to sit down on the other bed. The only light in the caravan was a small paraffin lamp on the counter near the door, and in the light it cast, Kevin could just about make out Arnold's grinning face.

'So, why'd you run away?' Arnold said, hugging the pillow to his chest and eagerly leaning forward.

This guy sure didn’t waste time with small talk, Kevin thought to himself. He scratched the back of his head, leaning back slightly as once again, Arnold invaded his personal space. 

'Uh, well… uh… gee…' Kevin mumbled. He wasn't sure how to phrase it - that and the fact that it all seemed so silly now. 

'Go on! I always find it's better to talk to someone to get things off your chest, otherwise they just eat you up from the inside out,' Arnold encouraged. 

'Uh, well..' Kevin started again. He paused, cleared his throat and continued. 'Well, my parents always wanted me to be the best..'

'That must be nice!' Arnold interjected. Kevin glanced at him, and Arnold looked embarrassed. 'Sorry, go on.'

'Yeah, well they wanted me to be the best and I tried my best, I got good grades, I attended Sunday school, I was top of every class I was in - but it was never quite enough for them, you know? They just kept pushing me for the next great thing and then I guess one day I just couldn't take it anymore,' Kevin stopped.

'Uh huh?' Arnold nodded, hanging onto every word. 

'I started to doubt the life I was living… I felt like it wasn't my life. So one day I just kinda… snapped - and I ran away,' Kevin concluded, letting his hands fall into his lap. 

'Wow,' breathed Arnold, as if he'd heard the most thrilling tale of all time. Kevin couldn't help but laugh a little.

'It's not that interesting,' he said, shrugging. 'It was pretty stupid, really…' Kevin tailed off, wondering how what his family were doing right now. Were they looking for him? Would a search party burst into the clearing any moment and make him go back? He shook his head. They wouldn't come after him. They were ashamed of him now. The once perfect Kevin Price had turned sour and brought shame on the Price family name. He looked back to Arnold.

'So what's your story?' he asked. Connor had said the entire troupe were runaways - there had to be some interesting tales to be told here.

'Me?' Arnold asked, seemingly surprised that Kevin had bothered to enquire. 'Oh, it's really not that cool…'

'Hey, I didn't think my story was very cool!' Kevin chuckled. 

Arnold chewed his lip before saying. ‘I didn’t exactly run away - I just left.’

'Isn't that the same as running away?' Kevin asked. 

'Not really,' said Arnold, in a small voice. 'My family were never that proud of me. To be honest, I think they were a bit ashamed..' Arnold paused, hugging the pillow tighter. 'One day I realised that I was never gonna make them proud so I just left. I knew they'd be better off without me.' 

Kevin was silent. From what he’d heard, it sounded like Arnold’s family were the polar opposite of Kevin’s. He couldn’t decide which was worse. ‘I’m sorry,’ Kevin mumbled.

'Don't be!' Arnold said, his tone a little more cheerful. 'They're better off without me and I'm better off without them!'

Kevin couldn’t help but smile at Arnold’s enthusiasm, though he still felt sorry for the poor boy. Arnold beamed back at Kevin and a pregnant pause fell between the two. 

'Should we get some sleep now?' Kevin suggested, tentatively. 

'Oh, yeah! Yeah, we probably should - we've got to be up early to help pack up,' said Arnold, placing the pillow down on the bed and wriggling between the covers. 

'Pack up?' Kevin said, alarmed. 

'Yeah! We're due to move onto the next village tomorrow - didn't Connor tell you?'

Kevin was quiet as he digested this information. Now he understood what Connor had meant when he’d said they ‘had a big day ahead of them’. That meant that if he stayed tonight, there would be no returning to his family. He could just get up now, leave the camp and find his way home. But he didn’t. He knew deep down that he wasn’t going to go back to the place he once called home. 

'No, he didn't,' he said, finally. 

'Oh,' Arnold shrugged. 'Could you turn the lamp off?'

Kevin glanced at the small lamp on the counter. ‘Sure,’ he leant over and turned the knob down until the entire caravan was plunged into darkness. 

'Thanks, buddy!' Arnold's voice thanked from the darkness. 

Kevin felt his way under the covers and pulled them tight around him. As he lay in the darkness, it only just hit him what was happening. In the space of only a few hours, he’d run away from home, been kidnapped by knife-throwers, met an extraordinary ringleader and joined the circus. He couldn’t quite believe it was happening and half expected to way up any second. But he didn’t wake up. He remained in the bed that was slightly too small for him, in a caravan with a clown, in the middle of a dark forest surrounded by half mad gypsies. Part of him felt that he should be afraid - but it was a different sort of fear. An apprehensive fear. It was exhilarating, exciting. This was the adventure Kevin had always longed for. As his eyes fluttered shut, his mind was filled with memories of the circus he had seen when he was nine years old. He remembered the glittery costumes and the glamourous acrobats, the fearsome lion and the majestic elephant. The weight lifter, lifting terrific tons of steel - the clowns doing funny dances and throwing cream pies in each others’ faces. Even the small details like the smell of the big top, the candyfloss he’d eaten and the crowded circus grounds. Sleep soon claimed him and he fell into a slumber filled with dreams of the circus - and curiously enough, a pair of ice blue eyes, shrouded in a red feather boa.


	2. Chapter Two

'Screeeeeech!!'

Kevin was jolted awake by a high pitched screech that grated against his ears painfully. As his eyes flew open it took him a moment to realise where he was. Yesterday’s escapades came flooding back and he looked around to find that he was still in Arnold’s caravan. The clown himself remained in his bed, facing away from Kevin. However, Kevin could tell he was still asleep by the snores emitting from the man. In the daylight creeping through the curtains of the caravan’s only window, Kevin could now see the interior of the caravan in more detail. It was much messier than he first thought - clothes were strewn across the floor and kitchen counter, and the walls were grubby. The curtains half covering the window were tattered and a faded shade of red. Kevin looked around to try identify where the screeching had come from. His eyes came to rest on the cloaked object in the corner. 

'Screeeeech…' 

Kevin jumped slightly as another noise sounded through the caravan. It was definitely coming from whatever was under the blanket. Kevin glanced at Arnold, but the clown didn’t seem to be roused by the screeching. Slowly, Kevin pushed back the covers and swung his legs out of bed. He crept across the small space between his bed and the clothed object. He raised an arm and pulled the cover off. Underneath was a large bird cage. Inside the cage was an equally large bird, with bright green plumage, who was staring at Kevin with black, beady eyes. Kevin gaped at the bird for half a moment before the bird in question squawked loudly.

'Hungry, Yoda is!' 

Kevin yelped in alarm and dropped the cover back over the cage. He heard a groan come from Arnold’s bed and whipped round to see the other man stirring.

'Just five more minutes, Yoda…' Arnold mumbled, pulling the sheets over his head. 

'HUNGRY!! Yoda is,' insisted the bird, from under the cover. 

'It talks!' Kevin cried, aghast. 'The bird talks!'

Arnold peered out from under the covers and eyed Kevin skeptically. ‘Have you never heard of a parrot?’ he asked, somewhat sleepily. 

'…parrot?' Kevin repeated, blinking. 

'Yeah, they're a kind of bird who mimic human speech,' explained Arnold, as he reluctantly rolled out of bed. He stumbled to the kitchen counter and started riffling through one of the cupboards. Kevin continued to stare at the parrot. 

'That's incredible!' he breathed, and moved closer to the cage, bringing his face down so he was eye level with the parrot. 'How do you do it?'

The parrot cocked its head and squawked at Kevin. Kevin frowned slightly. ‘Does it not understand the question?’

'He doesn't really do conversation,' Arnold explained, emerging from the cupboard clutching a wooden box labelled “Yoda”. 'He only mimics what he hears, or what I wanna teach him!' 

Arnold picked his way back to the cage and opened the box, revealing that it was full of some sort of seed. He opened the cage door and dropped a handful of the seed onto the floor of the cage. After the cage door was shut, Yoda hopped down from the little bar he had been perched on and began to peck at the seed. 

'He can't say much, and usually he gets it all in the wrong order, but I'm trying to teach him how to speak properly so that I can use him for performance!' Arnold beamed. Kevin nodded, watching as Yoda gobbled up the seeds. 

'Wanna know how he got his name?' asked Arnold, tentatively. 

'Uh, sure!' Kevin nodded, sensing that Arnold was dying to tell him. 

Arnold grinned. ‘I named him after a character from this thing I’m writing,’ The clown reached under his pillow and withdrew a notebook that appeared to be full to the brim with drawings and writings. Arnold proudly thrust it in Kevin’s face, and Kevin took the book and carefully opened it, so as not to dislodge the papers wedged between the pages. 

‘It’s this story about an empire of people who live far far away in the stars,’ said Arnold, enthusiastically.

Kevin nodded as Arnold explained. The drawings in the book were like nothing Kevin had ever seen - sketches of strange beings, sometimes humanoid and sometimes with not recognisable basis at all. There were also passages of text, and from Kevin read, they were fragments of a story relating to the pictures surrounding them. Arnold slipped one of the drawings out of the book and showed it to Kevin. 

'This is Yoda,' said Arnold, pointing to a depiction of a small green goblin like creature on the paper. 'He’s really wise and knows lots about power and using your mind in cool ways!' 

'And what’s that?' Kevin asked, pointing to a sketch of a dark cloaked figure.

'Oh, that’s the villain - he’s super scary and tall and talks with a raspy voice and can kill people with his MIND! But - spoilers! - he’s not really the villain in the end and he’s actually a pretty nice guy!!' Arnold practically shouted. Kevin got the feeling that Arnold didn't get to talk about his writings very much. Kevin just nodded, pretending to understand what Arnold was going on about. Kevin flipped over to the next page of the book and noticed a drawing that looked a little like Arnold himself, but with more muscle and charisma. Next to him, was an African woman with her dark brown hair curled into two buns on either side of her head. She and the Arnold look alike were embracing, gazing into each other's eyes. Kevin jumped when Arnold quickly snatched the book from Kevin's hands. 

'It isn't finished yet,' he said, closing the book and tucking back under his pillow. Kevin was slightly puzzled by Arnold's sudden reluctance for Kevin to see the contents of the book, and was just about to ask before a loud bong echoed through the camp. This caused Kevin to jump, Yoda to squawk crossly and Arnold to push pass Kevin to the door of the caravan. 

'What was that?' Kevin asked, as Arnold pushed open the door and peered outside. 

'It's breakfast!' Arnold said, delighted. 'Every morning, Kalimba makes us breakfast and it's always DELICIOUS…'

Arnold turned and grabbed a weathered dressing gown from the floor and threw it on. He then opened one of the cupboards and withdrew a small metal bowl. He paused, glanced at Kevin and then retrieved another bowl. Arnold tossed it at the other boy who just managed to catch it. 

'You'll need this - she does it all in her cauldron so you gotta bring your own bowl,' Arnold explained. 'Quick, let's go or everyone will have eaten it!!' 

Arnold practically dashed from the caravan, and Kevin quickly followed him. As he stepped out into the light, he noticed the paintwork of the caravans around him was much brighter and more colourful than it had been in the dark. There also appeared to be less caravans that he has first thought. Everything had seemed more intimidating in the dark. Kevin followed Arnold through the cluster of mobile houses and they emerged next to the campfire from the previous day. However, instead of a spit, there was now a big black cauldron, fire present underneath it. A woman stood over it, using both hands to stir its contents. Kevin recognised her as the sewing woman from the day before. Next to her stood a younger woman, with wild curly hair. Around the cauldron stood a small group of people. Almost instinctively, Kevin looked for a head of red hair but no such hair could be seen. He did, however, recognize the knife-throwers who had captured him the previous night. They were sat on one of the logs situated close to the fire and were chatting animatedly with the skinny boy and the boy with the unicycle, who were both standing, clutching their own metal bowls. Kevin seemed to recall that unicycle boy’s name was James. On the other log was Gotswana, thankfully without his box of writhing maggots and another man who looked much older than the rest of the troupe - Kevin recognised him as the sleeping man outside the lion cage.

As Arnold and Kevin approached, the faces turned, at first to greet Arnold but then to stare at Kevin. Kevin felt very exposed, especially on noticing the glare he was getting from Eric. Eric was the only one who was outright glaring - the rest of the crowd seemed more curious, a few wary. Kevin glanced nervously at Arnold, who seemed more concerned with making his way to the food. Kevin kept close behind him, and watched as Arnold presented his bowl to the plump woman. She took it and dumped a ladle full of what appeared to be some sort of stew into the bowl. She nodded at Arnold and smiled.

'Do not eat it too fast, child,' she warned, her accent similar to that of Gotswana's. 'I know how you are with food!'

'Thanks, Kalimba!' Arnold said, cheerfully. Kalimba looked expectantly at Kevin then back at Arnold. 

'Are you going to introduce your friend?' she asked. 

Arnold had already began to slurp at his stew (Kevin noticed how cutlery seemed to be absent from the camp) but looked up as

Kalimba spoke. 

'Oh, yeah,' he said through a mouthful of stew. 'This is Kevin, everyone!' 

There was a small chorus of ‘hello Kevin’ from the camp. Arnold walked over to the other people and began to introduce them one by one. He pulled forward unicycle boy first. 

'This is James, he rides a unicycle, which is like a bicycle but with one wheel - how cool is that?!' 

James laughed. ‘I think he knows what a unicycle is, Arnold,’ he said, slightly witheringly, but his tone seemed to go unnoticed by Arnold.

'That's Noah and Eric,' Arnold pointed to the duo sat on the log. 'They throw knives!'

'I know,' Kevin interrupted, eyeing Noah and Eric suspiciously. 'We've met.' 

'Awesome!' Arnold said, as if there was no tense atmosphere at all. 'This is Chris,' Arnold gestured to the skinny blonde.

'I play music,' Chris supplied, grinning sheepishly. 

'He also makes the pies for my clown act!' Arnold enthused. Before Arnold could say anything more, the man whose name Kevin did not know arose from the log and walked over to Kevin, a hand extended. Kevin shook his hand.

'I am Mafala Hatimbi,' the man said in a deep, booming voice. 'I look after the animals and insure the caravans run smoothly,' he explained. Gotswana also jumped up from the log.

'We have already met!' Gotswana grinned, walking over to also shake Kevin's hand. 'But in case you have forgotten, I am Gotswana, owner of Gotswana's Magnificent Maggot Circus!'

Kevin nodded slowly, and out of the corner of his eye, thought he saw Noah and Eric stifled laughs. 

'He is also the troupe's doctor,' Mafala added. 'If you have any ailments, see Gotswana.'

Arnold stepped forward again, annoyed that Mafala had seemingly taken over his introductions. He took Kevin by the arm and turned him to face to two women at the cauldron. 

'That's Kalimba - she cooks and makes most of our costumes.'

Kalimba nodded at Kevin but did not speak.

'And that's Nab… Nabu… Nabuloogo?' Arnold trailed off, apparently unsure of how to pronounce the girl's name.

'Nabulungi,' she said, giggling.

'That's it! Nabulungi…' 

Kevin looked expectantly between the two of them, expecting Arnold to go on to explain what Nabulungi’s role in the troupe was. As he looked closer at Nabulungi, he realised that she bore a striking resemblance to the woman depicted in Arnold’s book. Turning his head to look at Arnold confirmed this suspicion as Arnold’s expression was a blissful one as he gazed fondly at Nabulungi. 

'What do you do, Nabulungi?' Kevin prompted. 

'I tame the lion!' she said, matter-of-factly. Kevin was a little surprised, having expected her to be a dancer or acrobat. He suddenly realised that everyone was staring at him expectantly.

'Oh, um, I'm Kevin and I… don't really perform, sorry,' he said, rather lamely. 

'Don't worry,' said Mafala. 'Performing is not the only thing you can do here! Myself and Kalimba do not perform,'

'And Mr Blade,' Gotswana added, helpfully. 

'Him too,' said Mafala, a very faint tone of disdain in his voice. 

'Who…?' Kevin asked. Just as Mafala was about to give him an explanation, there was the sound of a caravan door slamming followed by the blonde man from the previous night appearing around the corner. The group fell silent as the man stormed to the cauldron and thrust a bowl at Kalimba, who took it and began to fill it.

'Hurry up, woman, I haven't got all day,' the man snapped. Kalimba raised her eyebrows at him as she handed him back his now full bowl. He then turned on his heels and headed back the way he had come. Before he vanished again he paused and turned to face the group. 

'What are you all standing around staring for?' he snarled. Immediately everyone looked away from the blonde man, except Mafala who stood his ground. 

'They haven't done anything to offend you, Steve,'

The man, Steve, narrowed his eyes at Mafala. He seemed to have nothing else to say as he soon turned and disappeared around the corner again. 

'Who was that?' Kevin asked. 

'That's Steve Blade - he's a fortune teller!' Arnold explained.

'He's not a real fortune teller,' Eric chipped in from his place on the log. 'He's a phony…'

'If he's such a fake then how did he know Connor was gonna have that accident last week, hmm??' Arnold folded his arms triumphantly, as if daring Eric to question Steve's fortune telling skills now. 

Instead of answering Arnold’s question, Eric and Noah exchanged a meaningful look. 

'We're not so sure that was an accident, Arnold,' said Noah, in a lowered voice. 

'What do you mean?' asked Arnold, frowning. 'Of course it was accident! He fell and hit his head, Connor said so!' 

Noah shrugged, evidently not wanting to say anymore. 

'Where is Connor anyway?' asked Kevin, breaking the slightly uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the group. 

'He will be joining us soon, I imagine,' said Nabulungi, smiling. 'Though I admit it is a little unlike him to be late for breakfast…' 

Kevin couldn’t help but notice Noah and Eric exchange another look. There was definitely something funny going on that Kevin, or Arnold apparently, didn’t understand. 

'Good morning, performers!' 

Everyone turned round to see Connor himself appear in the clearing. His outfit was less flamboyant than the previous night - he wore simple brown trousers, that were slightly cropped and a white shirt that was just a bit too big, but still managed to suit him. To complete the look was a light blue necktie, tied loosely around the redhead’s neck. Kevin reflected that he looked a bit like a pirate. 

The camp greeted the ringleader with a chorus of ‘hellos’ and ‘good mornings’ as Connor approached the cauldron and handed Kalimba his own bowl, which was considerably better polished than anyone else’s.

'How are we all this morning?' Connor asked cheerfully, nodding in thanks to Kalimba who handed him back his bowl now full of stew. 

'We are well,' answered Nabulungi. 'Though we were a little puzzled as to why you were not here when Kalimba and I rang the gong for breakfast?' 

'I had some things to sort out,' Connor said, off-handedly. 'Nothing you need to worry about - but I'm touched that you cared!' 

Nabulungi smiled, but as soon as Connor looked away she glanced at Eric who was grimacing. 

Connor was just about to start eating his meal when he noticed Kevin.

'Hello, Kevin!' Connor, walked over to him, smiling. This seemed to be the cue for the rest of the group to begin their own little conversations amongst themselves.

'Did you sleep well?' the redhead asked, daintily picking a bit of meat out of the stew and popping it into his mouth. 

'Uh, yeah! Yeah, no, it was great!' Kevin lied. Truth be told, his sleep had been difficult to achieve with Arnold's snores drilling into his brain and the drafty nature of the caravan being contributing factors. Not to mention that once he had managed to fall unconscious, his dreams were haunted with the same pair of eyes that looked piercingly at him now. 

'You don't need to lie, Kevin,' Connor chuckled. 'Everyone knows Arnold is the worst caravan companion a person could have, bless his heart!' McKinley laughed again, and Kevin noted that the man had a very musical laugh. 'Lying's a bad habit which I should hope you do not fall prey to,' the redhead added, his expression momentarily serious. 'Anyway, I hope that the quota of sleep you did manage to get it enough to see you through today,' Connor said, his tone now businesslike. He turned away from

Kevin and rapped his knuckles against his bowl. ‘Attention everyone!’

The rest of the group ceased their conversations and faced Connor. 

'You all know that today we are packing up and moving onto the next village,' he stated. 'After you have all finished your meals, I want you all to go and begin preparing your caravans for the move,’

The group nodded in unison, evidently used to this routine. 

'Also insure that you are dressed and ready to perform as we enter the village,' Connor grinned. 'Same routine as usual,' he turned to Chris. 'But Chris, could you play that other piece you do? You know, the upbeat parade type one?'

Chris nodded. ‘Sure!’

'I loved the jazzy one but felt it didn't give the overall feel of the troupe enough oomph,' Connor explained as Chris continued to nod. Connor turned back to the troupe at large. 'We plan to leave in one hour! Thank you, everyone!' 

Having been apparently dismissed, the group began to disperse. Eric and Noah disappeared into the nearest caravan, which Kevin assumed must be theirs and Chris and James also disappeared around the corner, presumably to their quarters. 

'Gosh, Kevin! You haven't had any food!' Connor suddenly exclaimed, concerned. 

Kevin stared at the bowl in his hands and realised that he had indeed not had any of the stew. ‘It’s alright, I’m not that-‘

'No, you must eat!!' Connor insisted, dragging Kevin over to the cauldron. Connor took the ladle from Kalimba who had been just about to start packing up the equipment and scooped a spoonful of the stew into Kevin's bowl. Kalimba made an irritated noise, and pointedly took back her ladle from Connor, evidently annoyed that Connor and this new person had messed up her packing routine. 

'Thank you,' said Kevin, directed both at Connor and Kalimba. Connor smiled and Kalimba said nothing but continued to pack up. Connor gestured that Kevin should take a seat on the log recently vacated by the knife-throwers. Kevin did so and Connor joined him. Both observed as Mafala, Gotswana and Kalimba gathered their various belongings and vanished off to their caravans. Nabulungi approached Arnold. 

'I need to feed the lion, would you like to help?' she asked. Arnold immediately turned a bright shade of red.

'Uh yeah, sure, that'd be really swell!! BOY, I SURE DO FEEDING LIONS!!! I mean, uh…' he spluttered. 

Nabulungi merely laughed softly and took his hand. ‘Come on,’ she said, leading Arnold away from the clearing. As they left, Arnold made an excited face at Connor and Connor gave him a thumbs up. When the pair had vanished Connor turned to Kevin and said, ‘They’re so adorable, aren’t they?’

'Oh, so they're…?' Kevin gestured after Arnold and Nabulungi. 

'Not officially,' Connor chuckled. 'But the way Arnold acts around her makes it completely obvious that he'd infatuated!'

'What about her?' asked Kevin.

'She's never spoken to me about it but she's certainly never denied it,' Connor confided. 'To tell you the truth, Kevin, I'm rather hoping they do get together - I'd love to have some kids running around here!' 

'Didn't have you down as a kids kind of person…' Kevin said, slightly playfully. 

'Gosh, no! I love kids! I'd say I'd love to have some of my own one day, but sometimes it feels like I'm looking after a whole troupe of them already…' Connor rolled his eyes at Kevin as if to say you know how it is. A silence fell between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Kevin realised they were the only remaining people in the clearing. He could faintly hear the sounds of voices and also the whinnies of horses - he hadn’t seen any horses around the camp but supposed they must have them to pull the caravans. On reflection, it was a very small troupe. Kevin had counted eleven people in total - including the mysterious and rather frightening Steve - and three of the members didn’t perform. This was certainly no big top extravaganza. Yet it had a sort of scruffy charm that Kevin couldn’t help but be drawn in by. 

'Are you going to move on with us, Kevin?' Connor said after a few moments, interrupting Kevin's train of thought. 'We'd love you to join our troupe officially…'

Kevin looked at Connor, more specifically into his unusually blue eyes. He wanted to speak, but something was stopping him. He broke from his trance when he felt Connor’s hand on his own and he looked down at both their hands, startled. 

‘I’d love you to join us,’ Connor said, his voice much quieter. When Kevin looked back at him he was surprised to see that Connor’s eyes appeared to be pleading with him. In that split second, Kevin realised that behind all the smiles and sequins, this man was perhaps not as happy as he pretended to be. Kevin was just about to open his mouth to reply when a menacing voice rang out from the opposite end of the clearing. 

'Connor.'

Both Kevin and Connor’s heads snapped round to the source of the noise. Steve Blade was stood across the clearing, a hardened expression on his face. Connor removed his hand from Kevin’s so fast it was like he had been scolded by boiling water. 

'Steve!' Connor's face broke into a smile, but Kevin had an inkling it wasn't entirely sincere. 'Where have you been all morning?'

'Looking for you,' Steve stated. His gaze, which had been fixed on Connor the whole time so far, suddenly snapped to Kevin. Kevin felt like he'd just had a spotlight shone right into his face. 

'Who's this?' Steve asked, scrutinizing Kevin. 

'Steve, this is Kevin - he's a new member of our troupe!' Connor beamed, gesturing to Kevin as if showing off a new pet. 

'Hello,' Kevin said, waving rather pointlessly and attempting to smile. 

Steve did not return the sentiments. ‘Connor, you can’t just invite new people in - what do you think this is, some sort of party? Some sort of game, where you can just add new people whenever you want?’

Connor’s expression faltered. ‘I didn’t realise you felt that way, Steve,’ he mumbled, glancing down at the ground. When he looked up again he said, ‘But now that he’s here surely we can’t turn him out?’ 

Steve continued to stare daggers at Kevin. ‘What does he do? Is he useful?’

Kevin gulped, feeling like a lamb being weighed up for slaughter. 

'Uh, well you see, he doesn't exactly perform but I’m sure there’s plenty of things for him to help out with!’ Connor said quickly. Kevin briefly wondered why Connor was fighting his corner so insistently. 

There was a silence. 

'Have a little pity, Steve,' Connor pleaded. 'He's a runaway just like us,' Connor stood and walked over to the blonde man. He took both his hands comfortingly. 'Remember how hard it was for us? How much we could have done with a group of people to support us?' Connor said, so quietly that Kevin could barely hear him anymore. 'Have some empathy……'

Steve’s face remained stoney but he seemed to back down a little. ‘Alright. He can stay,’

Connor did what could only be described as a little skip on the spot and he let go of Steve’s hands and clapped his own together. ‘Thank you!’

'On one condition,' Steve warned. 'He has to be part of the performance routine in two weeks or he's out.'

Connor froze for a second, but a smile soon returned to his face. ‘I’m sure that won’t be a problem, right Kevin?’ 

'I'm not sure I-' Kevin started but once again was cut off.

'He'll be fine!' said Connor cheerfully. 'Now don't you have some preparations to make?'

'No, I made them all last night,' said Steve, bluntly. 

'Oh, ok, well, um, Kevin?' Connor turned around to face the new boy. 'You should probably start helping out and learning the ropes.'

'He can help get the horses ready,' said Steve, eyeing Kevin. 

'Yes! Could you show him where the horses are, Steve? And also ensure that he knows what he's doing,' Connor said, nodding at Steve. 'Now I must go and oversee the setting up of the rig - see you both later!' With that, Connor practically skipped away back in the direction of his own caravan, leaving Steve and Kevin alone in the clearing. There was an awkward pause. 

'I'd better show you these horses then,' Steve grunted, turning and begin to stride away. Kevin quickly leapt up off the log and had to jog to keep up with the blonde man. Kevin felt like he should say something but was quite intimidated by Steve. They were roughly the same height, yet Kevin felt quite small in comparison. They walked in silence through the caravans and emerged on the other side of the camp. There was a small make-shift wooden pen just at the edge of the forest, inside of which were six horses, all in a line, snorting and whining softly. Three were varying shades brown, one grey, one black and one white. Kevin was used to horses - he'd ridden as a child and had helped look after his family's horse. 

'We need to couple the horses up to the caravans,' said Steve, walking over to the gate of the pen and retrieving two coils of rope from the ground. He threw one of them to Kevin, who only just managed to catch it. Steve unhooked the latch on the gate and swung it open, which was met by a chorus of whinnies from the horses. Steve approached the nearest brown horse and in one swift movement, looped the rope around its neck. The horse immediately started to stomp its hoofs and protest. Steve stood his ground and tugged at the rope around the horse's neck, coaxing him out of the pen. Eventually the horse and Steve were clear of the pen and Steve shouted to Kevin; 'Shut the gate!'

Kevin did so, and observed as Steve produced what looked like a sugar lump from his pocket and fed it to the horse. The horse immediately appeared to calm down and Steve patted its nose. 

'Good boy,' he muttered to the horse. Steve took hold of the rope again and started to lead the horse to the nearest caravan. Attached to the front of the caravan was a harness, which Kevin gathered must be for the horses. Steve slowly walked the horse around so that the animal was facing away from the caravan. 

'Take this,' said Steve, thrusting the rope in Kevin's direction. Kevin scuttled over and took the rope in his hands. As Steve lifted the harness and hoisted it onto the horse's back, Kevin asked, 'Does he have a name?'

”Course he does,’ Steve replied, having managed to fit the harness in place, he was now beginning to secure all the various buckles. Kevin waited for an answer but Steve didn’t seem to be giving him one. 

'So… what's his name?' Kevin asked, carefully.

Steve gave Kevin a look. ‘It’s Scratch, if you’ve gotta know,’ he said, with a dismissive sniff. ‘Connor named him - Scratch was the name of an old dog he had when he was a kid or something…’ Steve shrugged and shook his head, indicating that he didn’t really care. Kevin nodded, looking back to Scratch the horse. 

'Hello, Scratch,' he said, petting the horse's nose. Scratch snorted at him. 

'This one's done,' Steve announced, taking a step back from the horse now attached to the caravan. He glanced at Kevin still stroking Scratch's muzzle. 'You know what, kid?'

Kevin looked at Steve, apprehensive of what he was going to say next. 

'Since you seem to care so much about these horses, how's about I leave the rest of the job to you?' Before Kevin could protest Steve spoke again. 'Ok, that's great - get all these horses attached to the caravans,' he instructed, turning to leave. 'But make sure the white one's attached to Con's caravan,' he added. 'The white one is Connor's personal favourite. Oh and be careful of Starbuck, the black coat… he's got a mean temper.' 

With that, Steve swiftly exited the clearing and disappeared once again amongst the caravans. 

'But I don't know how to…!' Kevin called after him, but realised it was useless. He peered around Scratch to examine the harness. 'It can't be that difficult,' Kevin said to himself, turning back to the pen of horses. As he began to approach the pen, the horses began to whinny and stomp the ground, evidently disconcerted by the unknown human. 

'Hey! Hey, it's ok!' Kevin said, adopting a friendly tone. Carefully, he unlatched the gate and slowly entered the pen. The horses slowly moves away from Kevin, and huddled on the other side of the pen. All except the black horse, who stood his ground, snorting threateningly at Kevin. This was presumably Starbuck, the horse Steve had warned him about. 

'Easy, Starbuck,' Kevin said, holding his hands out in front of him to try and indicate to the horse that he came in peace. As Kevin approached, Starbuck suddenly reared up on his hind legs, whinnying loudly. Kevin jumped back about a foot, so as not to be trampled. Once the horse had calmed down a little, Kevin attempted to approach him again, this time wielding a rope that he'd tied into a loose lasso. 

'Come on, Starbuck!' he said, holding the rope in one hand and holding out the other to try and calm the horse. Starbuck snorted again, but did not rear. Kevin continued to edge closer, murmuring reassuring words to the horse. After a few painstaking minutes, Kevin was close enough to gently place a hand on Starbuck's jet black nose. The horse snorted again but did not seem to be too opposed to Kevin anymore. 

'Good boy, Starbuck!' Kevin whispered to the horse, smiling at his achievement. His next task was to loop the rope over Starbuck's head and escort him to one of the harnesses. Slowly, Kevin began to lift the hand holding the rope, still stroking the horse's nose with the other. 

'I'm gonna have to put this rope on you now,' Kevin told Starbuck, looking the horse right in the eye. Starbuck stared back, and blinked, not looking too impressed. 'It won't be that bad!' Kevin said, laughing. He continued to lift the rope and was just about to pull it down over Starbuck's head when-

'KEVIN!! What are you doing?!' 

Kevin whipped around to see Connor running towards the pen. As he did, Starbuck whinnied loudly and began to try and shake his head free from the rope, evidently spooked by the sudden shout from McKinley. Kevin tried to control Starbuck, by pulling on the rope that was only just clinging to the horse’s neck. Starbuck reared once again, and this time Kevin was not so lucky. One of Starbuck’s front hoofs made painful contact with his chest and he was knocked, with great force, backwards. He heard a scream from Connor as he lost his balance and fell to the ground. As he collided with the ground he felt his head meet something hard and the last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the ringleader, rushing to his side, his blue eyes wide with fear. The darkness then claimed him and Kevin was aware of nothing else.


	3. Chapter Three

The first thing Kevin was aware of when he awoke, was a dull pain in the back of his head. His eyes flew open and for the second time that day, it took him a few moments to remember where he was. He tried to sit up but as he did, his head spun and he felt incredibly dizzy so lay back down. He looked around and realised he was back in Connor’s caravan. He tilted his head to the side and saw the ringleader sat at his dressing table. He was hunched over, and Kevin couldn’t work out what he was doing. After a moment, Connor straightened up, and Kevin could see by the reflection in the mirror that his eyes were shut and he looked contented. When McKinley opened his eyes, he noticed Kevin looking at him in the mirror.

'Kevin, you're awake!' he said, a delighted expression lighting up his face. As he turned round to face him, Kevin noticed the redhead push something under the bunch of flowers still present on the table. 'Are you feeling alright? That was a nasty bump you had,' Connor said, gazing at Kevin with concern in his eyes. 

Kevin gingerly rubbed the back of his head, where it had collided with the rocky ground, and noticed that he now had a bandage wrapped around his skull. ‘I think I’m alright… How long was I out?’

'Only twenty minutes or so,' Connor reassured him.

'Wow, Steve wasn't kidding about that horse, was he?' Kevin tried to joke but upon hearing his words, a dark look crossed Connor's features.

'Why were you attempting to wrangle Starbuck all on your own?? What happened to Steve?' he asked, frowning.

'Steve, uh… left,' Kevin admitted. 'He seemed to think I could handle it by myself.'

'What?!' 

Kevin was surprised at Connor’s furious tone. 

'Of course you couldn't handle it on your own - you had no idea what you were doing!!'

'Actually I-' Kevin tried to interject, wanting to point out to Connor his previous experience with horses but Connor didn't seem to notice.

'That was highly irresponsible of him to leave you unattended with all those animals! You could have been KILLED!!' Connor ranted. He jumped up from his seat and marched to the caravan door.

'Where are you going?' Kevin said, hoisting himself into a sitting position. 

'To go and inform Steve that he is in BIG TROUBLE,' Connor said, emphasizing the last two words. 

'You don't have to!' Kevin cried helplessly from the bed. 'He did warn me about the horse so it's my fault really…' Kevin tailed off. Though he wouldn't admit it, he was a little scared of Steve - but also wanted to prove to the man that he wasn't just some spoilt kid who'd run away because of a temper tantrum. If Connor told Steve off for leaving Kevin to deal with the horses, then it would seem to Steve that Kevin was weak and useless. That was the last impression that Kevin wanted to leave. 

'Yes, but Steve shouldn't have left - sorting out the horses is his job anyway, only him and Mafala do it!' Connor continued to stress. 'I don't know WHY he just left!'

'It's fine! Really!!' 

Connor eyed him suspiciously, and Kevin had the feeling that McKinley knew why Kevin didn’t want him to tell Steve. Thankfully Connor seemed to accept defeat and sat back down at his dressing table. 

'I won't go and see him now, but I will tell him that it was not very responsible of him to leave you alone, no matter the consequences… especially with Starbuck!'

'Starbuck just got scared!' Kevin protested. 'I had him under control but-'

'Kevin, honey,' Connor gave him a withering look and continued with a condescending tone. 'No one is able to tame Starbuck - barely even Steve or Mafala can do it,'

'But I did!!' Kevin insisted. Connor merely raised an eyebrow.

'Whatever you say…. Just don't go near the horses again, alright? You were lucky this time, but if it happens again…' Connor grimaced. Kevin wondered why Connor cared so much about his welfare, as opposed to Steve or someone like the blonde knife-thrower, who cared very little at all. 

'Why do you care so much about me?' Kevin asked, deciding that he wanted to know Connor's reasoning. 

Connor looked a little taken aback. ‘Because you’re one of us now, Kevin!’ 

'But I've only been here less than twenty four hours,' Kevin pointed out. 'And I'm not even very useful - I can't even couple a horse to a caravan…'

'Yes, but from the moment I first found out that you were a runaway too, I counted you as one of us! Not to mention the fact you're a rather dashing young man, which is a lovely bonus…' The redhead smiled coyly at Kevin. Kevin was a little puzzled - was Connor flirting with him?

'Oh, uh, thanks, I guess?' Kevin mumbled in response. There was a pause before Connor continued. 

'But now that you're part of the troupe it's my duty to care for you and insure no harm befalls you,' a distant look crossed the ringleader's face. 'I made that promise from the first day on the road and I intend never to break it.'

A silence fell between the pair and Kevin felt the conversation had taken a turn for the solemn. Before anymore could be said, there was a knock on the door.

'Come in?' Connor called and the door swung open, revealing Chris, the music player.

'I think we're just about ready to leave now,' he informed McKinley. 

'Excellent - instruct everyone to be in position and ready to leave in five,' Connor responded. Chris nodded and disappeared to do as Connor had asked. The redhead turned back to Kevin. 'You'll need to move back to your caravan for the journey - can you walk?'

Kevin slowly swung his legs off the bed and tentatively stood. His head still ached, but he wasn’t dizzy. ‘I’m good,’ he said, nodding.

'Alright then, if you make your way back to your caravan, then Arnold will tell you what's happening next,' Connor said, gently shooing Kevin towards the door. Kevin was just making his way down the stairs of the caravan when Connor caught him by the shoulder and turned Kevin round to face him - Kevin found himself suddenly shorter than the ringleader, as he was stood a few steps down from him.

'Welcome to the circus, Kevin,' Connor said with a wide smile, and before Kevin could respond, the redhead pulled him forward and planted a kiss on Kevin's forehead. Kevin didn't have time to register as he was then pushed away down the stairs and Connor disappeared back into the caravan, shutting the door behind him. Slightly dazed, Kevin began to walk the path he'd taken last night back to Arnold's (and now his) caravan. On his way he saw other members of the troupe clambering up onto the front of their caravans, taking the reigns of the horses that had eventually been coupled. Kevin picked up his pace, gathering that if he didn't get aboard his ride soon they may well leave without him - but also to try and think about anything else but Connor's unusual parting kiss.

'Hey, buddy!' 

He saw the distinctive figure of his caravan companion sitting in the driver’s seat of their shared living quarters, waving frantically at Kevin. He noticed that Arnold had changed back into his clown costume since he’d last seen the boy. Kevin waved back and jogged the last few feet to the caravan. Upon reaching it, he hoisted himself up onto the small bench next to Arnold. 

'What happened to you?' Arnold asked, gesturing to the bandage, appalled. 

'Oh, I got kicked over by one of the horses and hit my head,' Kevin explained, having forgotten about his injury temporarily. 'It's no big deal…'

'Starbuck, right?' Arnold made a face. 

'The very same,' Kevin confirmed. Reminded of the matter of horses, Kevin glanced to the horse tied to the reigns Arnold was holding. It was the grey horse that Kevin had seen in the pen. 

'Which one's this?' Kevin asked. 

'This one's Mormon,' said Arnold in reply.

'As in, the religion?' Kevin was a tad confused as to why anyone would name their horse “Mormon”. 

'It was Connor's idea,' Arnold went on to explain. 'When he was a kid, he and his family were Mormons,'

'So was I!' Kevin exclaimed. He paused. 'Well, I suppose I still am…'

Arnold continued. ‘So he knows a bit about the scripture and stuff, and when we needed names for the horses he called this one Mormon and there’s another one called Moroni,’ the clown nodded, as if concluding an epic tale. However, he had actually lost Kevin’s attention as soon as he’d revealed information about Connor’s childhood. Kevin had to admit he was surprised. He himself came from a family, more accurately a village, of Mormons. Until recently he’d completely bought into the faith and was the most perfect Mormon boy in town. However, with his meltdown came a crisis of faith and he’d grown to realise that what he had believed all his life perhaps wasn’t so great as he’d first thought. But the idea that Connor had once been a Mormon like him? That was a strange concept. Connor McKinley, the most extraordinary character Kevin had ever met, was about as far from the Mormon religion as it was possible to be. Kevin made up his mind to ask the ringleader about it when he next encountered him. 

There was a sudden loud commotion to the side of Arnold and Kevin’s caravan, to which the two boys peered round at. They saw the most well decorated of the caravans move into view, the white horse pulling it, which was being driven by Steve who was sat on the bench at the front. Kevin noticed for the first time, the scaffold that had been set up on the roof of the caravan - he wondered what it was for. The vehicle made its way to the front of the troupe, and all the other caravans filed in behind it. Arnold guided their own caravan in second to last, just in front of one driven by Eric and one of the brown horses that Kevin recognised to be Scratch. Kevin then turned to Arnold.

'Where exactly are we going?'

'Where ever'll have us - that's the usual plan,' Arnold replied, tugging on the reigns continuing to guide Mormon so as to keep in line with the other caravans. 'We usually put on a bit of a show as we enter a new village and if the people like it, then we stay and if they don't then we move on pretty quickly,' he explained. 

'Do people usually like you?'

'Depends on the town,' Arnold shrugged. 'Mostly they don't mind us, but sometimes they can be kinda hostile… Couple of weeks ago we had tomatoes thrown at us!'

Kevin grimaced. ‘Tough crowd,’ he remarked. 

The caravan parade came to a halt and as Kevin and Arnold squinted to the front of the line they saw someone clamber up onto the scaffold on top of the front caravan. On closer inspection, Kevin realised it was Connor. He’d changed his outfit since Kevin last saw him - he was now wearing a red tailcoat that glittered in the morning sunlight, a black top hat with a red band around it and from what Kevin could make out, some form of stockings instead of trousers. Under the tailcoat appeared to be a black leotard, also shimmery in the sun. Round his shoulders was the feather boa from the interior of his caravan and in his hand was a baton, which was just as sparkly as the rest of the outfit. McKinley waved the baton above his head to get the troupe’s attention. 

'Attention please!' he shouted across the stretch of vehicles. 'According to Steve's estimation we should be arriving in the next village in a couple of hours,' Connor called to the occupants of the caravans. 'As always, be ready to show them what we're made of - knock 'em dead, troupe!' He thrust the baton into the air with a proud smile and there were cheers from the other caravans. Arnold too let out an excited whoop and clapped his hands together. Connor turned and dropped down onto what Kevin assumed must be the driver's bench. The parade of caravans began to move forward, through the parting in the trees, down the track that would lead the troupe onwards to the next settlement. As the convoy picked up some sort of pace, Kevin could hear strains of music drifting down from the caravan in front - he assumed that must be Chris warming up. 

'So what happens when we reach the next village?' Kevin turned to Arnold. 'Does everyone just hop up onto the roofs and dance or something?' 

'Kind of, yeah!' Arnold grinned. 'Once we get nearer we attach the horses to the caravan in front, so that we're free to do our acts on the roof,'

Kevin nodded. He was anticipating their arrival in the next village with excitement. But as the troupe moved on through the trees, Kevin couldn’t help but gaze back the way they had come. There was no going back now. He wondered if his family would miss him. Would he ever see them again? 

'You alright, buddy?' Arnold asked, interrupting Kevin's thoughts.

'Yeah, yeah I'm fine,' Kevin replied. 'Can't help wondering if my family'll be OK…'

Arnold placed a comforting hand on Kevin’s arm. 

'Don't worry about them too much,' Arnold advised. 'Every bird's gotta leave the nest eventually, right?'

'Mmm,' Kevin shrugged in agreement. He supposed it was different for Arnold - the way he had made it sound was that his parents never cared for him anyway. Kevin's parents did love him - but they loved the reflected glory more. 

They continued in silence for a while, the only noises were the creek of the caravans, the trot of the horses’ hoofs and the occasional shout or chord of music from the other performers. It wasn’t until there was an indignant screech from inside their own caravan, when Arnold spoke again. 

'Shhh, Yoda!' The clown called to the parrot inside the caravan. 

'Outside! Yoda go,' the parrot's scratchy voice replied. 

'You can't go outside yet, Yoda!' Arnold said, exasperated. 

'I thought you said he didn't do conversation?' Kevin asked.

'He doesn't - this is him complaining,' grumbled Arnold. Another cross screech came from the caravan and Arnold groaned. 'I'm gonna have to let him out for a bit, or else he'll never shut up - can you take the reigns?' Arnold shoved the reigns into Kevin's hands, before clambering over the back of the bench and through the window-come-door at the front. Kevin grasped the reigns firmly, determined not to have another horse disaster. Luckily, Mormon was the most gentle of the horses, so Kevin didn't actually have anything to worry about. A few moments later, Arnold reappeared, with Yoda the parrot perched on shoulder. 

'Happy now?' Arnold addressed the parrot crossly, as he sat back down on the bench. Yoda said nothing more, but if parrots could smirk, Yoda most certainly would be doing so. Kevin admired the bird, excited to be finally up close with it. He extended a hand to stroke the emerald plumage, but instead received a sharp nip from Yoda's beak. 

'Yeah, I wouldn't do that,' Arnold laughed. 'He's not the friendliest of birds!'

'No kidding…!' said Kevin, as he shook the bitten hand to try and relieve the pain. 'Where did you get it?'

'Well, uh, actually…' Arnold said, suddenly blushing very red, though it was difficult to see behind the makeup. 'Naba gave him to me…'

Kevin was relieved, because for a moment he thought Arnold was going to announce that he’d stolen the bird. He smiled when he heard where it had actually come from. 

'That's so sweet!' he said. 

'She actually only gave him to me because he kept biting everyone else,' Arnold added, frowning sadly. 'I'm the only one he likes - aren't I, Yoda?' Arnold gently patted the parrot's head and Yoda crooned softly. 'See?'

Kevin chuckled, still amused by Arnold’s antics. Though he was starting to understand why the clown had been the only person in the troupe without a roommate prior to Kevin’s arrival. 

'Hopefully he'll come to like you too,' Arnold said, grinning. 'Y'know, since you're sleeping in the same room and all…'

'Let's hope so! I'm personally not a fan of having my fingers bitten off while I sleep,' Kevin joked to which Arnold roared with laughter, startling Yoda somewhat and causing him to screech. Mormon too, whined reproachfully at the sudden loud noise. Kevin laughed along, even though he didn't think his joke had been that funny. When Arnold had regained composure, Kevin spoke again. 

'What should I do when we arrive? Because I don't really perform so…?'

'You can either sit here with Mormon, or I guess you could walk alongside the caravans,' Arnold shrugged. 'Steve, Kalimba and Mafala sometimes do that and collect any coins the crowd throw!'

'I'd be happy to do that!' Kevin agreed. He'd also be able to watch the performers which he was eager to do. The pair were quiet for a moment before Arnold addressed Kevin again. 

'It's so awesome to have you here,' he said, beaming. 

'Thanks for having me!' Kevin replied, further thinking that everyone in this troupe was exceptionally welcoming - something his home town had lacked. They grinned at each other for a second before turning back to look ahead. The peace was soon broken as Yoda announced loudly that he was hungry again. Kevin felt that this was going to be a long trip.


	4. Chapter Four

Though Connor had claimed the journey would take two hours, it was closer to four before a shout of 'Village up ahead!!' was heard from the front of the parade. Arnold immediately jumped up from his place on the bench.

'I've got to get my props ready!' he exclaimed. 'Come on, Yoda, it's time to go back inside now...'

As Arnold clambered back into the caravan, Kevin heard the parrot start to protest by means of a stream of very Arnold-esque 'no's. Kevin leant to the side, gripping the reigns tightly so as not to fall off, to see if he could see their destination. The convoy was just emerging from another forest they had found themselves in, and Kevin could see that they were actually headed down into a valley, where there was small town situated. A shiver of exhilaration ran through Kevin, and in that moment he knew that he did not regret his choice to leave with the troupe. As he continued to look forwards, he suddenly noticed a sequin-clad figure scurrying along on the ground next to the caravans - though he appeared to be coming towards the back of the line. Kevin watched as the ringleader jumped on and off of each caravan, evidently talking to each driver. Soon, Connor was at Kevin's and Arnold's caravan, and jumped up onto the slowly moving, perching on the small railing at the side of the bench. 

'Everything alright?' Connor grinned. Kevin was completely speechless. From far away, the redhead had looked pretty good - up close, he looked down right stunning. His make-up was done in just the right way that it brought out his big blue eyes and rosy cheeks. His hair looked redder than ever - and Kevin thought he could see a touch of glitter hidden in the auburn locks. He was reminded of the acrobats from the circus he'd seen all those years ago - which his mother had scorned but Kevin had always found strangely beautiful. He realised that he'd been staring rather gormlessly at Connor for a moment and inwardly slapped himself. 

'Yeah! Yeah, everything's good,' Kevin nodded, averting his eyes. 

'Arnold been behaving?' the ringleader quizzed. 

'Arnold has - his parrot hasn't,' Kevin replied, rolling his eyes. Connor laughed. 

'Oh dear, so you've met Yoda?'

'Unfortunately, yes,' Kevin chuckled. 

'Where is Arnold?' Connor looked around the bench, as if perhaps wondering whether Arnold was hiding there.

'He said he was getting his props,' Kevin gestured to the window Arnold had disappeared into. When he looked back at Connor, Kevin was surprised to find that the leader was staring at him. 

'You know what, Kevin?' Connor mused. 'I think we should get you into a costume!' 

'But I'm not performing...' Kevin pointed out, a little surprised by the sudden interest in his outfit. 

'Doesn't mean you can't still look fabulous!' Connor flashed him a dazzling smile and took Kevin's hand. 'Come on then!' 

Before Kevin could protest, Connor dragged him down off the caravan onto the ground.

'Arnold!' Connor called up into the caravan. 'I'm just taking Kevin for a costume fitting - he'll be back later!'

Arnold's wigged head appeared from the window. 'Oh, ok... Bye Kevin!' Arnold waved at Kevin, looking a little crestfallen as his companion was whisked away by the ten times more glamourous ringleader. Kevin barely had time to wave back before Connor was pulling him away towards the front of the parade. The caravans were moving at a slow enough pace so that if Connor and Kevin broke into a run they would be faster. Connor did so, with Kevin stumbling along behind him. As they went, Kevin saw that the other troupers were also wearing sparkly outfits - perhaps not as sparkly as Connor's but still adorned with sequins to the limit. Kevin had to wonder where all the materials came from. They reached Gotswana and Kalimba's caravan, and to Kevin's surprise, Connor leapt aboard. Kevin hastily followed suit, so as not to be left behind. Gotswana, who was at the reigns, greeted them.

'What brings you here, Mr McKinley?' Gotswana asked, happily. He noticed Kevin also clamber aboard. 'Ah! And you've brought Mr Kevin along with you!' 

'Yes, we've come to find him a costume!' Connor explained. Kevin saw that Gotswana too was wearing a sparkly green jacket and had swapped his usual hat for a smart black bowler. 

'Of course! Kalimba is in the caravan,' Gotswana gestured to the same window like opening that was part of Kevin and Arnold's caravan. Connor wasted no time in climbing through the small door, and indicating that Kevin should follow him. Kevin followed Connor into the caravan and he was almost blinded by the amount of sequins in the room. The caravan he was currently stood in could give Connor's a run for its money where interior decorating was concerned. There were a cluster of dressmaking dummies in the corner, with half-finished clothes draped on them. Against one wall were a set of bunk-beds, and against the other sat Kalimba at a small desk, operating, what Kevin recognised to be a sewing machine, by turning a wheel and feeding the fabric through. She too was wearing sparkles - hers in the form of a glittery pink hair scarf and an equally sparkly yellow waistcoat. She looked up as Kevin and Connor entered. 

'Hello, Kalimba!' Connor chirped. 

'Good afternoon, Connor,' Kalimba greeted him. Her attention then switched to Kevin. 'Hello, Kevin,' she nodded at him.

'Hi,' Kevin raised a hand in greeting. 

'I suppose you've come to get Kevin a costume then?' Kalimba asked, looking back at Connor.

'How _did_ you know?' Connor asked in mock surprise. Without waiting for Kalimba to say anything else, Connor turned to the bottom bunk bed and pulled a small lever at the side. The bed immediately sprung open to reveal and quantity of shimmering fabric underneath. Connor knelt down and began to start pulling items of clothing out of the bed-turned-trunk, before pausing and turning to Kalimba.

'Could Kevin and I had some privacy?'

Kalimba glanced from Connor to Kevin and back again. Silently, she folded the costume she was currently making and placed it next to the sewing machine. 'If you need me, I'll be with Gotswana,' Kalimba said, and stood to squeezed past Connor and Kevin to the door leading to the driver's bench. Once she had gone, Connor smiled at Kevin.

'I always find it's a little disconcerting to have too many people in the room when getting dressed, don't you?' 

Kevin shrugged. He didn't really mind - especially as by the looks of everyone else, all he'd be doing is putting on a hat or jacket. 

As Connor continued to rifle through the costume box, Kevin suddenly remembered what Arnold had told him about Connor's upbringing. 

'I didn't know you were a Mormon,' Kevin said out loud. He noticed Connor freeze temporarily and wondered whether he'd said the wrong thing. 

'Who told you that?' the redhead asked, his tone slightly tense.

'Arnold did - he was telling me about the names of the horses, and how you named a couple of them after people from the scripture,' Kevin said, shifting from foot to foot. 

'I see,' Connor said. There was a pause as Connor continued to pull waistcoats and jackets and dresses out of the box.

'I'm a Mormon too, actually,' Kevin continued, feeling as if he should tell Connor this piece of information. The ringleader turned to look at him this time.

'Are you?' McKinley asked, his expression difficult to read.

'Yeah... Well, I don't think I am anymore though,' Kevin started to fiddle with the hem of his shirt, and looked away from Connor's piercing gaze.

'How so?' Connor asked, eyes still fixed on Kevin. 

'I don't know really... I just started to doubt the text and to question it and...' He tailed off.

'And...?' Connor prompted. Kevin glanced at the redhead and noticed the expression on his face was somewhat hopeful.

'And I guess I just got sick and tired of all the stupid rules,' Kevin concluded, wondering what Connor had been hoping him to say. 'Did you feel the same?'

'Essentially, yes,' Connor replied, turning back to the box. 'I left for other reasons too, though.'

Kevin waited for Connor to continue. 

'I mainly ran away because of who I am,' the ringleader admitted. 'My family and church wanted me to be someone I wasn't - they couldn't bear the real me. One day I... I did something terrible... They were so ashamed. My father threatened to... kill me if I didn't leave. Most of the village was on his side... I t-tried so hard to...' Connor stopped. Kevin was about to prompt him to continue before he realised that Connor was crying. Kevin was a little lost for words - he'd never been great at emotional issues. He made do with kneeling down next to Connor and awkwardly placing a hand on his back.

'Hey, it's alright,' Kevin said, trying to be positive. 'You're much happier without them right?' 

Connor let out a sob, and tears began to roll down his face, smudging his makeup. Kevin watched the ringleader fall apart before his eyes with dismay. He'd known that Connor wasn't entirely happy but this was something else - he hadn’t been expecting him to burst into tears. 'You can talk about it, it's alright,' Kevin offered. 

Connor continued to sob and Kevin continued to rub his back comfortingly. After a few moments, Connor's tears seemed to slow a little and he spoke.

'My entire village turned me out,' he said quietly. 'People I thought were my friends turned against me...'

'But that's behind you now!' Kevin said, trying to be encouraging. 'You've got this fantastic troupe - you can forget all about everything that's happened in your past!'

'That's the thing,' Connor muttered. 'I can't forget.'

Kevin faltered slightly. 'Well, in time maybe...?'

Connor's head snapped up to lock gaze with Kevin. His expression was hard. 'You don't understand - I can _never_ forget it.'

Connor suddenly shut his eyes tight, screwing them up as if he'd just looked into a blinding light. He placed both hands over his face and remained in that position for a moment. Kevin was thoroughly confused by the ringleader's behaviour. He was almost starting to believe that McKinley was not quite right in the head - not always a bad thing but at times like this it was unsettling. 

'Are you-?' Kevin was about to ask if he was alright when suddenly Connor's hand flew from his face and to Kevin's increasing confusion, a wide smile spread across the leader's features. The only clue that he'd be crying seconds early was the dark smudges down his cheeks.

'Gosh, I'm sorry, Kevin!' Connor said, in a tone that was forcibly cheerful. 'I get a bit silly sometimes, Steve's always telling me off for it!' Connor let out a rather unnatural giggle. Kevin gaped in astonishment at McKinley. This man was insane, he was sure of it. Just seconds earlier he had been bawling his eyes out and now he seemed to be pretending that nothing had happened. 

'We came here to look for a costume for you, didn't we?' Connor turned back to the box and continued searching through it. 

'Are you alright, Connor?' Kevin asked cautiously. Connor stopped rifling through the box and sat back on his feet.

'I'm _fine_ , Kevin,' he said, smiling reassuringly. Kevin wasn't so sure, but could ask no more as Connor held up a white shirt and sparkly pink waistcoat. 

'I think this ensemble will suit you rather well!' The ringleader said cheerfully, holding the garments up to Kevin's figure. 'The pink will bring out your eyes,' Connor mused. He pushed the clothes into Kevin's arms and stood, shutting the bed-slash-trunk. Kevin hastily followed suit. He stood still for a moment before Connor cocked his head questioningly at him. 

'Well? Aren't you going you going to get changed?' 

Kevin was a little startled. 'Oh, I thought you didn't think changing with people looking was-'

Connor merely waved a hand dismissively and to Kevin's surprise, reached over and began to undo the top buttons of Kevin's current shirt.

'What are you doing?!' Kevin yelped, instinctively flinching. 

Connor looked surprised. 'Helping you change,' he said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, before continuing to unbutton Kevin's shirt.

Kevin would have protested further, but after McKinley's sudden mood swing, he figured he'd just let him have his way. Connor tutted and pushed Kevin's arms away from his chest, so that he could finish undoing the shirt. The ringleader's hands worked quickly and gracefully on the rest of the buttons, and Kevin briefly wondered what else those hands could do. Not a moment after thinking this, Kevin was inwardly shocked at himself and outwardly turned a bright shade of red. Once all the buttons were undone, Connor eased the shirt off Kevin, in doing so, pressing against him slightly. Kevin tried to keep his breathing normal, attempting to hide the effect that the redhead's invasion of his personal space was having on him. Connor glanced up at Kevin, a vaguely sly look in his blue eyes. 

'Did I ever tell you that I think you're very handsome, Kevin?' Connor murmured, one of his hands tracing slowly down Kevin's chest, causing the brunette's breath to hitch. 'I'm so glad you decided to join us...' he breathed, moving even closer until he was just inches away from Kevin's face. Again, Kevin found himself hypnotized by the ringleader's transfixing orbs, and could not look away. There was a tense moment as the pair stared into each other's eyes. Kevin couldn't help but let his gaze wander down to Connor's lips, and for a split second, Connor seemed like he was going to lean even closer. The atmosphere was broken by Kalimba's voice coming from outside the window.

'Are you boys nearly done in there?' 

Connor jumped slightly, and stepped back, away from Kevin to glance at the window.

'Nearly done, Kalimba!' he called back. He turned back to Kevin and took the new clothes that were still in Kevin's hand. He unhooked the shirt, and handed it to Kevin, who slipped it on and began to do up the buttons. It just about fitted him, but was a tad on the small side. Once the shirt was on, Connor then handed him the waistcoat, which Kevin also put on. Once he was fully dressed, Connor beamed. 'You look fabulous!' He said, clapping his hands together, gleefully. 'That was one of my first outfits, you know,' Connor added, gesturing to the shirt and waistcoat. 

'Oh, r-really?' Kevin managed, cursing himself for stuttering. He was still reeling from the previous moment with the redhead. 

'Yes!' Connor grinned, as if nothing had happened. 'In fact,' McKinley extended his hands tugged gently on the bottom of the waistcoat, making sure it was all neat and tidy. 'I made it myself,' he finished, in a quieter tone. The ringleader smiled up at Kevin. 'We'd better get going - gotta get ready for the show!' Connor turned on his heel and made his way over to the window. He climbed through and Kevin quickly followed. They were greeted by a rather put out Kalimba. 

'Sorry for holding you up, Kalimba!' Connor said cheerily, sweeping past the seamstress and hopping down off the caravan onto the ground. 

'You ask me for all these costumes and then do not let me use my room!' Kalimba huffed, disappearing back into the dimly light interior. 

'I'll see you all later,' Connor called up to Kevin and Gotswana who were still on the driver's bench. 'Break a leg!' he sang, sinking into a theatrical bow, before dashing off towards the front of the parade. Kevin watched him go, wondering whether he should go after him. To be honest with himself, he was a little nervous. No one had ever made him feel the way Connor did. Though he'd been the topic of much admiration amongst the girls in his town, he'd never been all that interested in them. It never bothered him until his mother had started talking about finding him 'a nice Mormon girl' to settle down with - which he had resented. Just another thing that had eventually snapped the connection between him and his parents. The bottom line was that Kevin thought he just wasn't interested in settling down with a girl from the village. Turns out he was right - in completely the opposite way he expected. 

'Are you alright, Mr Kevin?' Gotswana asked, peering concernedly at Kevin. 

'Huh?' Kevin turned his head to Gotswana. Lost in his moment of self realisation he had missed what Gotswana had said.

'I said, are you alright, Mr Kevin?' Gotswana repeated. 

Was he alright? Was this circus, and its eccentric ringleader driving him crazy? 'Uh, yeah. Yeah I'm.... fine,' Kevin said slowly, nodding. 'I think I'm gonna head back to my caravan.'

Kevin disembarked the caravan and began to walk back to his own. Gotswana called after him.

'Mr Kevin! I like your costume!' 

Kevin turned and smiled at Gotswana.

'Thanks!' he called back before jogging the rest of the way to his and Arnold's caravan. He noticed that all the horses were now coupled to the caravans in front too. This must be for the parade into town, Kevin figured. 

'Nice outfit, buddy!' Arnold shouted from the driver's bench, where he had returned to during Kevin's absence. 

'Connor gave it to me,' Kevin replied, hoisting himself up onto the bench next to Arnold. 

'It suits you!' Arnold grinned. Kevin would have responded with a similar compliment, but as Arnold was currently clothed in what could only be described as a large polka-dot sack with a rainbow coloured ruffle at the collar, he thought that it would be considered lying so said nothing. Kevin peered around the caravans in front and could now see they were nearing the village. He also started to see people clambering up onto the roofs of their vehicles. He turned around and saw Noah and Eric standing atop their own caravan, seemingly playing catch with a hand full of knives. 

'I'd better head up onto the roof,' said Arnold, gathering up a bundle of props and hurling them onto the roof. He then climbed up onto the bench and pulled a small extending ladder down and climbed up it onto the platform above. 

'Shall I stay here?' Kevin asked, not sure what he should do. 

Arnold squinted down at him from the roof. 'You can come and sit up here, if you want!' he grinned. 'Then you'll have a great view of everything!!' 

Kevin clambered up the ladder and sat on the edge of the roof, with his legs dangling over the edge, facing the way they were headed. In front of him, was what he recognized to be Gotswana and Kalimba's caravan - he saw Gotswana himself emerge from the driver's bench and onto the roof, carrying a large cylindrical object that Kevin assumed must be a drum, and in his mouth was a small flute-like instrument. He was followed by Chris, who was sporting the most bizarre contraption that seemed to be a combination of every musical instrument it was possible to think of. Beyond the two musicians, Kevin could see Nabulungi stood on top of the lion cage, which was coupled right in the middle of the line of vehicles. On the caravan beyond her was James, who was somehow managing to cycle in circles on the roof of the moving caravan without falling off. In front of James was the front of the parade, Connor's caravan. Kevin could see the ringleader perched on the highest bar of the scaffold, clutching his baton in one hand, and holding his hat with the other. If Kevin leant to the side, he could see the village ahead of them - he hoped that this village was welcoming to traveling performers, as he didn't like the sound of having fruit, or worse, stones thrown at them. 

A few moments later, Connor turned to face the troupe. 

'Are we ready?' he called down the line. A chorus of agreement and cheers (and a 'get on with it!' from Eric at the back) replied and Connor grinned.

'Alright!' he raised his baton. 'A-six seven eight!'

On his count, Gotswana and Chris broke into a cheerful tune, which reminded Kevin immediately of the circus he'd seen as a boy. Once the music had started, everyone else atop the roofs of the caravans began their routines. James continued to cycle around, this time also juggling a handful of apples, Nabalungi appeared to be crouched on top of the cage, whispering something to the lion. When she stood upright, there was a tremendous roar from the cage and the Nabulungi seemed to start to perform some sort of lyrical dance. Kevin twisted round to look behind him - Arnold was juggling a variety of objects including a book, a ball and what appeared to be a bread roll. Looking past him, Kevin saw Noah holding up a red and white target, which Eric was throwing knives into - he seemed to be managing to hit the bullseye each time. Kevin turned around and looked back to the front of the parade. It was now obvious what the rig was for as Connor hung upside down by his knees from the highest bar. He dropped the baton on the roof and proceeded to swing from the high bar to the one lower down in one graceful movement. He then reached up to the high bar again and pulled down two red ribbons, which he wrapped around his hands and hoisted himself into the air, seeming to only be using the ribbons as support. Kevin stared in awe at Connor's skill and elegance - he made it look so easy! 

The parade moved onwards and soon they were beginning to enter the village. Kevin glanced down to the ground and saw curious villagers emerging from their houses, or looking up from their jobs. 

'Come one, come all!' Kevin heard Connor announce from the front of the line. 'Come and see the most magnificent traveling circus in the world!' 

More people were coming out from their houses now - women cradling babies, men looking up from their work, small children running alongside the parade excitedly. Some people even began to throw small coins as they passed.

'Kevin! Go collect the coins!' Arnold hissed, nodding at the money people had started to throw. Kevin hopped down onto the driver's bench and down again onto the ground, where he hastily collected the coins and stuffed them in his trouser’s pockets. Before he could return to the driver's seat, a little girl ran up to him and thrust a flower at him. It was drooping and she had obviously picked it herself, but Kevin couldn't help but smile. She shyly smiled back and then scuttled away to hide behind a woman who Kevin assumed to be her mother. Kevin jumped back onto the wagon and tucked the flower into one of his free button holes. As the parade moved on he waved at the little girl and her mother who both waved back. The encounter put a grin on Kevin's face and in that moment knew that he had certainly made the right decision to join the troupe. He waved at more villagers as they continued through the town, and occasionally would hop down from the caravan to collect coppers that the people would throw. Kevin was having the time of his life - he'd never done anything this exciting back home! He felt like nothing could wipe the smile off his face. 

Until he saw the hooded figure in the crowd. The parade was just making its way through the central square of the village, and quite a hoard of townspeople had gathered to watch them - amongst the sea of smiling faces, there was one that stood out - a man, with skin like Gotswana's, wearing a black hood. Unlike the other faces, he was not smiling. Merely watching. Kevin was unsettled - surely the man was just another villager, perhaps one who was not enjoying the show so much? But a nasty inkling told him otherwise. As the caravans moved on, Kevin lost sight of the mysterious figure and the crowd was once again made up of smiling faces. He thought about telling Arnold, but said clown was in the middle of a comical dance and Kevin thought it probably rude to interrupt him. So he continued to wave to the crowd and to collect any money thrown and tried not to worry too much. However, he did make a note to mention his suspicions to the troupe once they'd come to a stop. 

Eventually, the parade of caravans reached the opposite end of the village. Connor could be heard telling the villagers that the troupe would be back tomorrow for on foot performances - this statement was received positively by the crowd, who waved enthusiastically as the line of caravans disappeared off into the woods surrounding the town. Chris and Gotswana, who had been playing without rest since they had begun, brought the music to a triumphant finish, which was greeted with applause by the remaining crowd and the rest of the performers. The musicians took a quick bow before climbing down off the roof. Arnold too dismounted the roof and dropped down to join Kevin on the driver's bench. 

'Well?? What did you think?' Arnold asked, out of breath and tugging the brightly coloured wig off his head, revealing his own rather sweaty locks.

'That was the greatest thing I've ever done!!' Kevin enthused. 'You were all so amazing! And I collected so many coins!' Kevin emptied his pockets and showed Arnold the handfuls of coins and other small trinkets that the villagers had thrown. 'I think I even gained an admirer,' Kevin said, a hint of pride in his voice as he showed Arnold the flower he'd been given by the little girl.

'That's so awesome, buddy!!' Arnold beamed, and to Kevin's surprise, pulled him into a tight hug. Kevin gingerly patted the clown on the back. When Arnold pulled away he smiled. 'It's so cool to have you here!' 

'It's cool that you're having me!' Kevin responded, smiling in return. Arnold may be socially inept and a little clingy at times, yet Kevin couldn't help growing rather fond of the tubby boy. 

Arnold parted from Kevin a moment later. 'I gotta uncouple Mormon from the caravan in front,' he said, hopping off the caravan and running round to the back of the other wagon, untying the horse from the extra harness that held him. Arnold returned to the driver's seat and once again took the reins. The parade continued into the woods, until they emerged in a clearing similar to the one that they had left behind that morning - the difference being that a small stream ran through the centre of this particular clearing. The caravans then seemed to start to peel off from the line, lining the clearing. Chris and James's caravan took its place at the far side of the clearing, followed by Mafala and Nabulungi. Gotswana and Kalimba took the centre of the clearing while Noah and Eric parked right by the road back into town. For some reason, Steve parked his and Connor's caravan just behind Gotswana and Kalimba - Arnold evidently wasn't expecting this as the two vehicles nearly hit each other. Arnold eventually parked their caravan between Connor's and the knife-throwers. 

Once all the wagons were parked, people began to disembark and unpack the caravans. Within an hour or so of arriving, another campfire had been set up next to the stream, the horse pen had been restored and Steve and Mafala between them had managed to wrangle all six horses into it. After all of the work was done, the troupe gathered around the fire, scattered variously on a couple of logs Eric and Noah had found, or just sat on the floor. Connor sat cross-legged on a tree stump and faced the troupe.

'So I'd just like to say WELL DONE everyone!!' he said, grinning. 'Give yourselves a round of applause,' he started to clap his hands and the rest of the group joined in. 'They absolutely LOVED us - in fact, I think that was the best crowd in a while!' 

There were murmurs of agreement from the performers. 

'You all must get a good night’s sleep tonight,' Connor continued, ignoring Eric and Noah's snickers at the thought of actually getting any sleep. 'We want to be just as good, if not better, tomorrow!' Connor then turned to the knife-throwing duo, a smile on his face. 'Eric, Noah - since you obviously don't think much of resting, could you put your knife throwing skills to use and fetch us some dinner?' 

The pair promptly stopped sniggering. 

'But we did it last night!' Noah whined. 

'Well, unless you want yourselves and everyone else to go hungry then I suggest you hurry up,' Connor said, sweetly. 

Noah looked like he was going to argue but Eric just rolled his eyes, stood up and indicated that Noah should follow him. 

'Come on Noah,' the blonde knife-thrower said, tugging on his companion's arm. Noah gave in and the pair trudged off into the woods, evidently to hunt down some poor innocent creature to be turned into stew. 

Once they had gone, Connor turned back to the group. 'Until they get back with the food, you may do as you please!' 

Everyone sighed with relief. Connor was just about to get up from his tree stump when he spotted Arnold waving his hand in the air.

'What is it, Arnold?' Connor asked, patiently.

'Can we go in the stream??' Arnold asked, his expression hopefully. 

Connor glanced at the small woodland stream. 'I don't see why not - just be careful and don't slip!' 

Arnold cheered, as did Chris and James who had obviously been wanting to go in the stream too. Connor made eye contact with Kevin, rolled his eyes and mouthed 'children' at him. Kevin stifled a laugh. As Arnold, James and Chris dashed down to the stream (rolling their trousers up as they went), everyone else gradually dispersed. Kevin noticed Nabulungi run down to the stream to join the boys, something which made Arnold very happy. Mafala, Kalimba and Steve vanished back to their caravans and Gotswana lay down on the grass, resting his hat on his face. Connor got up from his seat and started to walk back towards his caravan - Kevin ran to catch up with him.

'You were really good in the show,' Kevin said, falling into step with the ringleader. 

'Aw, thank you, Kevin!' Connor said, stopping to turn and smile at him. Kevin grinned sheepishly, before looking away. 

'Yeah you were.... really good!' he finished, not knowing what else to say. Connor tipped his head to the side.

'Oh Kevin,' he said, giggling lightly. 'You haven't seen the best of me yet...' The last part was accompanied by a wink. Before Kevin could respond, Connor twirled away from him and vanished into his caravan, leaving Kevin dazed behind him once again. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a scene of domestic violence.

The sun was beginning to disappear behind the surrounding mountains when Noah and Eric finally returned, dragging with them the corpse of a woodland deer. Kevin seemed to be the only one mildly concerned by the dead animal - everyone else welcomed the kill. In the time it had taken for the duo to retrieve the food, the rest of the camp had regrouped on the bank of the stream, some paddling in the water and others sat on the grass. Even the animals were mingling - Mafala had let the horses out of their pen to graze freely, Arnold had brought Yoda out on his shoulder, and to Kevin's surprise, Nabulungi was currently sat side by side with the lion, gently stroking the beast's mane as it sat with its front paws crossed. The only person not present was the elusive ringleader. The troupe had been spending their time chatting nonchalantly, and being subjected to Arnold try and play his rusty trumpet. Kevin suspected the cheers that greeted Noah and Eric's return were partly due to it meaning Arnold had to stop his painful recital. 

'How's this for dinner?' crowed Eric, evidently intensely proud of the kill. Kalimba clapped her hands together a few times and walked over to the dead animal to examine it. 

'Very nice boys,' she said, squatting to inspect the deer further. 'A clean kill too - this'll keep us going for a few days.' Kalimba took the rope that the boys had been dragging the animal with in her own hand and headed off in the direction of the spit. 

'Chris! I will need your assistance,' she called over her shoulder and the small blonde immediately leapt up from his position on the ground and scuttled over to help Kalimba with the nasty job of attaching the poor animal onto the metal pole to be roasted over the flames. 

'Since supper's not going to ages, have I got time to read a poem?' Arnold asked eagerly. An audible groan was heard from Eric. 

'Oh no, is Arnold reading his poetry again?' he groaned. Arnold looked somewhat crestfallen. 

'I don't have to...' he trailed off. 

'I'd love to hear your poem, Arnold!' Nabulungi chimed in, smiling sincerely at the tubby boy. Arnold's face lit up as if Christmas had come early. 

'Really??' he asked incredulously. 

'Of course! Come, tell me your poem,' Nabulungi patted the ground next to her. Arnold bounded over, pausing for a split second upon realising he would be just inches away from the lion. This didn't deter him further and he sat himself down next to the smiling girl and produced a small notebook. Kevin observed the pair, smiling slightly. Connor was right - they really were adorable. 

'Hey, you're Kevin, right?' 

Kevin turned at the sound of the unicyclist's voice. The boy had scooted over to the seat next to Kevin.

'Yeah, that's me,' Kevin nodded. 

'So how're you finding everything?' James asked, his tone friendly. 

'It's great!' Kevin said, grinning excitedly. 'You're all fantastic performers!'

James beamed, seemingly pleased by Kevin's opinion. 

'I was going to ask if you wanted to play ball with me, Noah and Eric?' The sandy haired boy produced a leather ball from behind his back. 

'Sure!' Kevin was grateful for the offer and thrilled that he was starting to feel more at home in the troupe. He and James jumped up from their seats and ran down to the stream, jumped over it and entered the other half of the clearing. 

'C'mon you two!' James called to the knife-throwers. 'Kevin's gonna play with us!'

Eric and Noah ran to join the other two. Eric looked Kevin up and down, the suspicious expression returned to his face.

'Me and Kevin, versus you and Noah,' James stated, throwing the ball from hand to hand. 

'Alright, new kid,' Eric sneered. 'Let's see what you're made of!'

'I accept your challenge,' Kevin bantered back, grinning at the blonde knife-thrower. 

'Hey, Connor!' James shouted over to the caravans. Kevin looked and saw the redhead returning to the group on the grass. He had changed back into his white shirt and trousers since Kevin had last saw him. Connor raised a hand in greeting to James.

'Are you ready for some football?!' James yelled, before bursting into laughter. Eric and Noah cracked up too as Connor scowled at them all and threw his hands in the air in frustration. Kevin felt he had missed something and looked questioningly at James.

'Connor HATES football,' he explained, still chuckling. 'He played it with us once and completely failed at it so has refused to play ever since!' 

Kevin chuckled, not being at all surprised upon hearing Connor's hatred for the sport. 

'Well, are we going to play or not?' Noah asked, staring expectantly at the ball in James's hands. 

'Ok, let's go!' James said, dropping the ball onto the floor and promptly kicking it in the direction of Eric and Noah. 

 

\--

 

Connor watched the four boys dash around on the opposite side of the stream. Especially Kevin. Specifically Kevin. Since the new boy's arrival, Connor had been fascinated by him. Why would one so good looking and confident have run away from home? Himself and the other troupe members had all taken weeks, even months to adjust to life on the road, yet Kevin seemed comfortable after only a day. Connor was grateful for the fresh face - much as he loved his troupe, sometimes it all got a little too intense. They all knew too much about him. Far too much. And when it felt like the walls were closing in, Connor would retreat to his caravan where he would shut himself away for hours, in a state between dreams and reality. Connor often blurred the line between life and dreams, and on occasion, this scared him. Kevin knew none of this; and Connor liked it that way. He could truly be himself around someone again. He continued to watch the brunette, smiling upon observing the boy laugh as James tripped Noah, causing him to tumble onto the ground. He continued to smile, until he caught Steve's eye. The smile soon faded. 

 

\--

 

'That's three to us!' James shouted, triumphantly jumping up and down on the spot after scoring the winning goal. 'We win!!'

'No fair! I was distracted!' Eric protested.

'Nope, we won fair and square,' Kevin said gleefully. He shared a high five with James. 

'Fine,' grumbled Eric, brushing the dirt off his trousers. 'But next time you won't be so lucky...' 

They all heard the familiar sound of the dinner gong, and looked across the stream to the rest of the camp. Kalimba and Chris were evidently ready to start to serve up the now roasted deer. 

'Alright, food!!' James whooped, dashing back across the stream and to the spit. Eric, Noah and Kevin followed, jumping over the running water and onto the other bank. 

'Now now, children, there's plenty to go around!' Connor scolded as the boys jostled each other to be first in line for the meal. 

Kevin caught Connor's eye and grinned. He'd noticed the ringleader watching him during his game with the others, and thought back to the moment in Kalimba's caravan. It was a thrilling, but also nerve-wracking, thought to him that perhaps Connor saw him as more than just the new member of the troupe. While Kevin was distracted, Eric had won the battle to stand first in line. He smirked over his shoulder as Kalimba scraped a chunk of meat onto a wooden plate, sprinkled some sort of seasoning on top and handed it to Eric. Once he had received his food he returned to the circle of seats where the rest of the troupe were sat. Noah, James and Kevin followed once they too had received food. The other performers started to get up to retrieve their meals, now that the boys were fed. Nabulungi took two plates - one for herself and one for the lion, and Arnold may have well as taken two judging by the amount of extra meat he had piled onto his plate. Soon enough, everyone was seated and eating in a comfortable silence. 

'This is delicious!' Arnold said through a mouthful of food.

'What have I told you about speaking with your mouth full, Arnold?' Connor sang, wagging his finger reproachfully at the boy. 

'Sorry!' replied the clown, still talking through a full mouth. Nabulungi giggled, seeming to find this rather funny. 

The group continued eating. Kevin sensed that everyone was mostly too tired out from the day of traveling and performing to do much talking. As the plates became emptier, Connor cleared his throat.

'Before we all turn in for the night, I'd like to say that the total number of gold pieces brought in by Mafala, Kalimba and Kevin is a stunning two hundred and nine - which is more than double what the last village gave us!'

This statement was greeted with cheers from the troupe.

'If we do good tomorrow then we'll be rich in no time!' Eric grinned, hi-fiving Noah. 

'Exactly what I was about to say,' Connor nodded. 'So if you want a bit of extra money, make sure to really give it your all tomorrow!' 

The troupe nodded and murmured in agreement. 

'Once you've all finished here, I highly recommend getting lots of shut eye!' Connor chirped. 'Don't want to be too tired to perform!' 

Once again, the group nodded and seemed to take this as their cue to start getting up and heading to their caravans. Soon, the only remaining people were Connor, Steve, Arnold, Nabulungi and Kevin. And of course, the lion, who seemed to have fallen asleep.  Arnold and Nabulungi were in the middle of a quiet conversation that Kevin couldn't quite hear - it seemed to be making Arnold grin like an idiot though. Kevin would retire to his bed but he hadn't quite finished his supper yet. He continued to slowly chew at the tough deer meat, turning his gaze to the ringleader. Connor was sat with his hands in his lap staring at the ground. He looked tired and lacking in energy - a startling contrast to how he had looked only a few minutes earlier. He raised a hand to one side of his face and scratched his cheek, as if trying to satisfy an itch. Kevin thought nothing of it until his other hand found the opposite cheek and did the same. The redhead didn't stop clawing at his face until Steve walked over, knelt down and carefully tugged Connor's hands away from his face. Steve said something to Connor, which Kevin didn't catch and Connor nodded. Steve straightened up and walked away, disappearing amongst the caravans. Once Steve had gone, Connor stood and slowly walked down to the edge of the stream, ignoring Kevin, Arnold and Nabulungi as he went. Arnold and Naba cast glances at the redhead but soon resumed their own conversation. Kevin watched the ringleader sit on the bank, kick his shoes off and dangle his dainty feet in the water. Kevin wanted to go and comfort the boy somehow, so set aside his now cold food and rose from his seat. Just as he did however, Steve returned, clutching something in his hand. He strode past the three still sat, and in Connor's direction. Before he reached the redhead, Steve paused and turned to face the small group. 

'Aren't you all meant to be going to sleep?' he asked, eyeing them all suspiciously. 

None of them moved. Arnold spoke up.

'Yes, but I thought we could just stay out for a b-'

'I said,' Steve repeated in a threatening tone. ' _Aren't you all meant to be going to bed?_ ' 

Kevin and Nabulungi didn't need telling twice and quickly leapt up from their positions, Naba gently shaking the great cat awake. Arnold looked like he was going to protest but Nabulungi hushed him with a pointed look. All three, plus the sleepy lion, hot-footed it away to their various caravans. Just as he left, Kevin noticed Connor place his hands over his ears, but saw nothing more as Nabulungi hurried the two boys away towards their caravan. Once they were out of earshot of Connor and Steve, Kevin turned to Naba. 

'What was that about?' he asked, mystified. 

Nabulungi shook her head. 'I find that it is best not to cross Mr Blade when he is angry,' she said. 

'But why is he so angry?' Kevin asked. 

Nabulungi merely shrugged, stroking the lion's head. 'I must go and sleep now,' she said, turning in the direction of her own wagon. 'Goodnight, Kevin. Goodnight, Arnold...' she smiled at them both and walked away to her caravan, the lion following close behind. Kevin watched her go and then looked to Arnold, who was gazing after the dark haired girl lovingly. 

'Watch it buddy, your crush is showing,' Kevin teased. 

Arnold jumped a little and looked at Kevin, aghast. 

'C-crush?? What crush?!' 

Kevin burst out laughing at the look on Arnold's face. 'You really think no one's noticed how sweet you are on that girl?'

Arnold began to chew his lip in worry. 'You won't tell her, will you??' he asked, evidently concerned. 

'I won't,' Kevin assured the boy. 'But if you ask me? She doesn't need to be told,' he confided, smiling. 

Arnold gaped at him. 'You think she knows?? Oh no!!' the clown said, distressed and flailing his arms around. 

'Hey, calm down!' Kevin grabbed Arnold's arms and held them still. 'I think she does know, but I also think she might just feel the same!' 

Arnold stared at Kevin, his jaw practically on the floor. 

'She... wh...' Arnold stuttered, before shaking his head and looking away from Kevin. 'No, she couldn't possibly like someone like me.'

'Don't be so hard on yourself!' Kevin encouraged. 'She certainly likes spending time with you...'

'Naba's nice like that,' Arnold said, smiling wistfully.

'Maybe you should offer to take her someplace nice?' suggested Kevin. 

Arnold looked questioningly at the brunette. 'Like where? We're camping in the middle of a forest.'

'Well then maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel!' 

A doubtful expression crossed Arnold's face. 'I don't think I could do that... what if she ends up hating me!?' 

'You said yourself how nice she is,' Kevin tried to calm Arnold who had begun to flail again. 'She's not going to hate you!' 

Arnold stopped flailing and a trace of hope flickered across his face. 'Are you sure?' 

'Positive!' Kevin beamed. 

Arnold was silent for a moment as he drank in this information. '...ok,' he said eventually. 'I'll tell her!'

'That's the spirit!' Kevin said, proudly. 

'I'll tell her tomorrow!' Arnold said, confidently. 'I'm gonna get lots of sleep and tell her tomorrow!' He turned, marched up the stairs of the caravan and opened the door at the top. He grinned at Kevin. 'I'm gonna tell her!!' 

Kevin gave Arnold a thumbs up as the boy disappeared into the caravan. Kevin didn't immediately follow him - his thoughts returned to Connor, and how different he had looked. He had looked tired and sad - a contrast from the bright and cheery ringleader earlier in the evening. 

Arnold reappeared at the door, clutching a toothbrush. 'Are you coming, buddy?' 

Kevin glanced at Arnold. 'In a bit, there's just...' He turned in the direction of the stream. '...just something I need to do first,' Kevin said, starting to walk back towards the central clearing. 

'Oh ok, see ya later!' Arnold called after him.

Kevin wandered back into the clearing, and sure enough, Connor was still sat by the stream. Steve was stood behind him, and Kevin quickly ducked behind one of the caravans. He did not want Steve to spot him, not after their last encounter. Kevin watched, and could see that Steve was talking to Connor. Or rather at him, as Connor buried his face in his knees, and seemed not to be responding to anything Steve said. As the redhead continued to ignore him, the blonde man appeared to get more and more frustrated. Steve's words became louder until Kevin could make out what he was saying. 

'...listen to me, damn it!' he shouted. Still, Connor failed to respond. Something seemed to snap and Steve grabbed Connor by the arm, hoisting him into a standing position, turning the smaller man to face him. Kevin was unnerved to see a total lack of emotion on the ringleader's face. Steve lowered his voice and hissed something right in Connor's face. There was a tense pause and then to both Kevin and Steve's surprise, Connor laughed. It was a slightly hysterical laugh that had a chilling effect on Kevin. It must have had a worse effect on Steve because the next thing Kevin witnessed, to his horror, was Steve smack Connor across the face with the back of his hand. Kevin's own hand flew to his mouth in shock as Connor dropped to the floor, oddly still laughing.

'Stop LAUGHING!' Steve snarled, loud enough for Kevin to hear. Kevin winced as Steve dealt a sharp kick to Connor's stomach, which did indeed cause the boy to stop laughing, turning instead into coughing. Kevin felt utterly helpless - he wanted to run down to the stream and fight Steve himself. But he couldn't move - he was frozen with fear and horror at the sight he was watching unfold. 

Steve knelt to Connor's level and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling the redhead's face closer to his. Connor’s head was turned away, avoiding eye contact with the blonde man. Steve gripped Connor’s chin with his other hand, forcing the boy to look straight at him. They remained like that for a moment - Connor’s eyes were wide. After a moment, Steve straightened up and let go of McKinley's shirt, letting him drop to the ground in a heap. He turned and strode away, his expression a mixture of anger and… sadness? Kevin retreated further behind the caravan. The last thing he wanted was Steve knowing that he had been watching. When Steve had vanished, Kevin left his hiding place and ran down to Connor's limp body, kneeling at his side. 

'Connor? _Connor!_ ' 

The boy stirred at the sound of Kevin's voice. His hand reached out and found Kevin's, gripping it tightly. 

'Hi, Kevin,' Connor managed weakly, turning his head slowly to look up at Kevin. His normally expressive eyes had taken on a glazed look, and his make-up was once again smeared down his face by tears. 'You look nice...'

Kevin's concern grew. 'Connor, are you alright?' He clutched the other boy's hand.

Connor giggled again. 'Right as rain!' he sang, a delirious expression on his face. 

Kevin did not join Connor in laughing. 'Why did Steve do this to you?!' he demanded, eyes wide with concern. 

Connor was silent. Kevin stared at him expectantly. Eventually, he mumbled something that Kevin missed. 

'I can't hear you,' Kevin said gently, leaning slightly closer. 

'It wasn't Steve's fault...' the redhead said, a little louder. 

Kevin stared at him, unable to believe what he'd just heard. 

'What are you talking about?? He _hit you!_ ' 

'No, no, you don't understand,' Connor protested, squeezing his eyes shut. 'It was my fault, I was being silly…' 

'It doesn't matter what you were doing,' said Kevin, trying to make Connor see sense. 'He hit you, I saw!' 

'He didn't mean it!' Connor insisted, letting go of Kevin's hand and curling into a fetal position, shaking his head. 'He didn't mean it...'

'What do you mean, "he didn't mean it"?!' Kevin cried. 'He beat you up!'

'NO!' Connor wailed. 'No, he didn't!!' 

'Well I'm sorry, but from where I was, it looked like he was attacking you,' Kevin said, frustration creeping into his voice. ‘What did he want? Was he trying to rob you??’

'No, he wasn't,' Connor mumbled. 'You don't understand...'

'What don't I understand?' Kevin asked. 

Connor shook his head. He pulled himself off the floor and into a sitting position. He stared intently at the water trickling by in the stream and once again dipped his bare feet in the cool water. 

'Take your shoes off,' Connor said, not looking at Kevin. 

Kevin stared at the redhead. 'Aren't you going to explain what-'

' _Just take your shoes off,_ ' Connor repeated, turning to look at Kevin with piercing eyes. Kevin complied, removing his shoes, rolling up the hems of his trousers and lowering his feet into the water. Connor then lifted his hands to the bandage still present around Kevin’s head from the horse incident and slowly tugged it off. The ringleader ran his hands through Kevin’s head, smoothing it out from being underneath the bandage all day. Kevin wondered whether Connor knew what he was doing but was more concerned with getting an explanation out of him.

'Connor, you've got to tell me what happened,' Kevin said softly.

Connor looked back to his feet, dropping the bandage on the ground next to him. He stared into the water, then at Kevin’s own shoeless feet.

'You have nice feet,' he said, quietly, after a long pause.

'Stop changing the subject!' Kevin said, annoyed.

'Only if you stop asking about Steve,' Connor snapped, clenching both his fists. 

Kevin swallowed whatever question he had been about to ask. It was clear that Connor wasn't going to tell him anything. However, Kevin was determined to get to the bottom of whatever he had just witnessed. Steve was evidently dangerous and he had to tell someone before anyone else got hurt. Mafala would do something about it - he would tell Mafala. Connor would not be happy about it, since he seemed to be dead-set on protecting the blonde man, but if it meant no one else got beaten up, then Kevin was prepared for the ringleader's inevitable protests. He made up his mind to tell Mafala about it first thing tomorrow morning. 

The two of them sat in silence, watching the ripples in the water as the light grew dimmer and dimmer. The moon was full that night, causing the stream to sparkle like melted silver, casting a watery light across the clearing,  A few minutes past before Connor rested his head on Kevin's shoulder. Kevin's heart skipped a beat at the contact, and he glanced down at the redhead. Connor's eyes were closed and a contented smile was present on his face. 

'You're warm,' Connor commented. 

'...thanks?' Kevin responded. 

Connor remained in that position for a while before also entwining his fingers with Kevin's. Kevin felt his heart rate increase and he wondered whether Connor could hear it. After what felt like an eternity, Connor spoke again.

'When I was little, my grandma told me that people who got lost in the woods were kidnapped by fairies,' he mused. Kevin didn't quite see how this was related to anything but he did not interrupt. 

'She used to make it sound like a bad thing, but I like fairies,' Connor continued, gently swirling his foot around in the water, creating ripples on the surface. 'Sometimes I'd wander off on purpose to see if the fairies would take me away, but they never did.'

Kevin waited for Connor to go on, but he didn't. Kevin looked at him once again and noticed he had opened his eyes and was gazing up at the sky. 

'Connor, you should probably get some sleep...' Kevin said, gently, still concerned for the boy. 

'I'm not tired,' Connor said, leaning back and looking Kevin right in the eye. 

'But what about the performance...?' Kevin asked, vaguer than he had intended as the intensity of the look Connor was giving him seemed to drain him of words. The redhead lifted a finger to Kevin's lips, preventing further speech. 

'You ask far too many questions, Kevin...' Connor whispered, leaning somewhat closer. 

'You don't give me enough answers,' Kevin replied, to which Connor raised an eyebrow. 

'Touché,' he smirked. Up close, Kevin could see the mark across Connor's pale skin where the hand had made sharp contact. Instinctively, Kevin raised his own hand to caress the sore skin. Connor winced as the brunette's hand brushed his face, but did not pull away.

'I think your grandma was right about the fairies,' Kevin murmured. 'I was lost, and you found me and took me with you,'

'So I'm a fairy?' Connor giggled, of a musical timbre. Kevin smiled.

'There's certainly something... magical about you,' the brunette said, afterwards cringing at his words and how cliche they sounded. Connor didn't seem to mind, as he smiled.

Their lips met. Kevin couldn't recall either himself or Connor breaching the gap between them - the action had seemed natural. He felt Connor's hands tangle in his hair, desperately pulling him closer. His own hands cupped the redhead's face, caressing his bruised cheek. They remained like that, deepening the kiss as the moonlight continued to shine down. After a lasting moment, the two boys parted. Kevin blushed heavily, and averted his eyes. He'd never kissed anyone before. Upon looking around he started to notice that they were not alone in the clearing. Hundreds of tiny lights were lighting up in the air around them, flickering as they drifted through the clearing.

'Fireflies...' Connor said, smiling up at the lights. 'The closest this world comes to fairies.' 

Kevin's gaze moved from the fireflies to Connor's face. The ringleader was transfixed by the lights, the orange hue reflected in his eyes. Kevin's own eyes drifted down Connor's face to the soft lips that had recently parted with his own. He had the strong urge to kiss him again. Connor glanced back to Kevin, his blue eyes twinkling in the moonlight.

'Thank you, Kevin,' he said, his voice soft, before leaning in and capturing Kevin's lips in another kiss. Kevin responded immediately, wrapping his arms around Connor's waist, pulling him closer. However, to Kevin's surprise he was met with a hand on his chest, pushing him away. He leaned back, confused. Connor's face had adopted a worried look. 

'What's wrong?' Kevin asked. 

'I can't...' Connor whispered, avoiding Kevin's eye contact. Kevin was confused - only seconds earlier Connor had been eager to kiss him but now he seemed to be experiencing a change of heart. He wondered whether it was something he'd done. 

'I'm sorry,' Kevin mumbled, biting his lip.

'No, no, it's not you, of course it's not,' Connor grasped Kevin's hands in his own. 'I just...'

Kevin waited for an explanation but had the sinking feeling that he wouldn't get one. They were still for a moment before Connor spoke again.

'You'd better get to bed,' his voice was quiet. He got up from his position on the ground and turned away from Kevin. Kevin too jumped up from the ground, an empty feeling settle on his stomach.

'What, so I'm supposed to skip on back to bed like a good boy? After all that's happened?' Kevin was feeling a little cheated. Connor had explained nothing to him, and seemed to think with just a kiss everything would be alright. Kevin certainly wasn't complaining about the kiss they had shared but felt like there was more going on that he didn't know about. It was becoming apparent that this little troupe hid many secrets - most of which appeared to be linked to the enigmatic ringleader. 

'I can't explain right now!' Connor said, his voice shrill. 'I'm going to go get some sleep, and I think you should too,' he looked back at Kevin, his eyes wide. 

'You can't go back to your caravan, Steve'll be there!' Kevin cried, half in frustration and half in concern. 

Connor shook his head. 'Steve won't be there, but thank you for your concern,' he said, smiling sadly at Kevin. He stepped closer to the brunette and took both his hands once again, holding them clasped between his own. 'I want you to promise me that you won't tell anyone what you saw tonight,' he said, blue eyes boring into brown.

Kevin opened his mouth to protest but Connor cut him off.

'No one, not even Arnold.'

'...alright,' Kevin said, not quite looking the redhead in the eye. 

'Promise me, Kevin,' Connor insisted, almost glaring at Kevin. 

'I promise!' Kevin knew Connor wasn't going to drop it until he'd officially said the words… but he wasn't going to give up so easily - yes, he'd promised not to tell anyone, but that didn't meant he couldn't ask around the troupe and see what they knew. 

Connor smiled at Kevin's words, and for a moment it seemed as if he was going to kiss him for the third time before stopping himself. 

'Goodnight, Kevin,' he said, turning and walking away towards the caravans, leaving Kevin stood by the stream, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. He retrieved his shoes from the ground and began to make his way back to his own sleeping quarters. He reached his caravan and slowly eased the door open, wondering if Arnold would still be awake. As he crept into the small space, it became apparent through the snores drifting from the other bed that the clown was indeed asleep. The parrot, however, was not and made it obvious that he didn't approve of Kevin's late night escapades and squawked scoldingly at the brunette. Kevin gestured for Yoda to be quiet as he quickly changed out of the shirt and waistcoat Connor had given him and back into his old shirt that Kalimba had dropped off in his caravan. He pulled back the covers of his bed and climbed in, pulling the sheets tightly around himself. At once, his thoughts drifted back to the stream. He felt like he was in a dream - only twenty four hours ago he had been wandering, lost, in the wood. Now, he had become part of a circus troupe of runaways and grown closer to the ringleader than he'd ever been close with anyone else in his life. He turned over in bed and gazed through the gap in the curtains where the starry night sky was just visible. If someone had told him that when he was nineteen he would run away and fall in love with an acrobat, he would not have believed them. He could barely believe it now. Kevin eventually drifted off to sleep, a slight smile on his face, remembering once again Connor's soft lips and his beautiful eyes. Any dark goings-on were forgotten as he slipped into subconsciousness, dreaming of him and Connor by the stream, surrounded by fireflies.

 

\--

 

Connor was shaking. His hands trembled as he tried to scrub away the remains of the make-up, thankful no one was here to watch fresh tears roll down his face. He forcefully wiped them away, scrubbing furiously, trying to remove all evidence. Even when the marks were gone he continued scrubbing. Maybe he could scrub away the bruise. Scrub long enough to wash away the pain. He could even wash away the feeling of Kevin's hand against his face, the feeling that he was finally safe, that someone truly cared again. He only stopped scrubbing when he realised he'd long since dropped the cloth. Raising his fingers to the light revealed blood under fingernails. He should be in pain. Yet he felt nothing. He dropped onto the bed, head spinning.

_You don't deserve him._

He clamped his hands over his ears. 

_He doesn't want you._

He holds his ears tighter. Why can he still hear them?

_You're a liar._

'I'm not...' he whimpered.

_Liar._

'I didn't lie!' A desperate cry. 'Steve, tell them, I didn't lie!'

Steve wasn't there. Steve was never there. Not when Connor really needed him. Not anymore.

_And that's your fault._

He screamed. But no one was awake to hear it. Connor was alone. Except for the voices, taunting him from inside his head.


End file.
